


Lost Souls

by Daerwyn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Deathly Hallows, Alternate Half-Blood Prince, Dumbledore Bashing, F/M, Horcrux Hunting, Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:02:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 39
Words: 64,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has given up on life after a few weeks back at the Dursley's. During a few moments before death, Harry arrives unexpectedly at the Granger's, where Hermione tries to heal his emotional scars - but that may never happen. Harry's skittish, hesitant, and when he goes back to Hogwarts, she decides to search for a way to defeat the Dark Lord, and to bring Harry peace. </p><p>H/Hr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry James Potter had certainly grown since he was an eleven year old boy. He only knew this because sitting in the cupboard under the stairs, he could barely sit on the 'bed', his legs stretched before him, and his back pressed against the oddly angled wall.

He winced as he shifted his weight, a shooting pain going up his side. He wished it was from the angle he had slept last night, but unfortunately, it was because of Vernon Dursley. Just thinking the vile name set Harry's teeth on edge.

Dumbledore had no idea what had happened to him every summer. Every year before he got his letter at Hogwarts. The plate of food scraps every day was the only meal Harry ever received. A glass of water if the Dursley's left the cupboard accidentally unlocked at night, and he could quietly get into the kitchen. Harry didn't dare steal food. If even a grape was gone from the bushel, they knew. The beatings were worse then.

Harry heard the steps pounding down the stairs and knew they were coming. But who would it be this time? Vernon or Dudley?

Harry shook, his eyes fixed on the door as he drew his sore, bruised legs to his chest. He wanted to just curl up and die. But no, the wizarding world needed him. Now that Voldemort had announced himself, he had no choice but to fight him. He had to. He was the only one.

"Boy! Get up!" The door opened and Vernon stared at the boy, sneering in disgust.

Harry's Quidditch muscles were slowly softening as the weeks went on. It was how it always was in the Dursley house. Every last week of summer, when he was at the Burrow, he would start playing Quidditch again and start to get back in shape for Quidditch season. He didn't know what day it was. According to the time in between beatings – which were night times or when Vernon was at work – he was well into July. When was his birthday? Had Hedwig stayed away from Privet Drive so she wouldn't take the brunt of Vernon's abusive nature?

Harry gasped in pain, desperately hoping Vernon wouldn't hear, as he was dragged from the cupboard by his hair and up the stairs to the bedroom he had occupied the days after the first Hogwarts letter had came. Dudley's second bedroom.

"For that, boy," Vernon growled. "You'll get double! Dudley!"

The brutal beatings started before the over-eager boy could even arrive. Fists punched at Harry, sending the already broken glasses flying across the room. Harry was nearly blind now, his hands trying desperately to protect his face. Kicks came to his ribs as he fell to the ground, unable to support himself.

"Filthy!" Vernon growled as Harry was forced to spit blood from my mouth. It fell to the ground, splattering.

When Dudley did arrive, the assault became more brutal. But Harry refused to scream, refused to cry. He took the pain because he knew that he deserved it. He wasn't natural. He was a freak, a wizard. His magic couldn't save him now.

A sharp kick to Harry's arm caused a blood-curdling pain to shoot throughout his body. His arm was broken. Perhaps, if he was quiet, he might be able to brew a potion tonight to heal it. But he doubted he'd even be able to move.

Then the assault stopped. Harry was panting on the ground, desperate to keep the scream of pain from escaping. Vernon grabbed his broken arm, causing a small whimper to escape from the boy, and lifted him from the ground, throwing him onto the bed.

Only now did Harry cry.

Harry thought of his first year, heading down the forbidden corridor with Hermione and Ron. He thought of Ron's brilliance in wizarding chess and Hermione's brilliance just in general. She was the smartest witch of the century. In second year, she figured out what was causing the students to be petrified. He could have easily lost her if she hadn't have had that mirror on her. In third year, he remembered the moment only the two of them shared. When they traveled back in time to rescue Buckbeak and...Sirius. Harry's heart clenched thinking of his late godfather, but he forced himself to remember good times. Good memories.

The joy on her face when they succeeded. When she blast Sirius' cell opened and they both pulled him to Buckbeak. And in fourth year, her brain working in overdrive just to get him through the tasks alive. The loyalty for him, even when Ron didn't believe him. She has always been by his side... It was only natural for Harry to develop a crush on her, but he couldn't have persued her. Ron fancied her, and had since second year. Harry had had no chance of ever having her. And then last year came along, fifth year. She suggested the whole Defense team. She suggested he teach them Defense. She told him it had to be him. And the DA started without a hitch. She was right, everyone listened to him and they learned more than they had in the other years they attended Hogwarts.

And then Sirius died. She warned him it wasn't a real vision. That Voldemort was tricking him. Harry remembered being so distraught after Sirius died. He didn't leave his dormitory, especially for meals. Hermione brought him a plate every day, every meal, and would sit with him until he finished it. It was silence between them. And then on the last day, Hermione threw her arms around Harry's neck and hugged him.

_"It's not your fault," she had whispered in his ear. "Sirius made his own decision to come, and Bellatrix is the one that shot him into the veil."_

_It didn't make him feel better. Hermione wouldn't let go, she just kept hugging him. And Harry opened his mouth to speak, for the first time in days – since he had screamed and yelled at Dumbledore, tore his dormitory apart. "Hermione, I-"_

_She cut him off, "I'm worried about you, Harry. We all are, but I'm the only one that's dared come up here. I worry you're losing yourself, Harry."_

_Her breath tickled his ear and he dipped his head so it rested on her shoulder, "I just don't know anymore, Hermione. What if he'll do that to other people, to lure me out? I can't... I can't be friends with anyone anymore."_

_"Don't you dare think that, Harry James Potter!" Hermione had said sternly as she pulled away. "You deserve every friendship. I don't care if you put me in danger. So what? Being a Mudblood I'll always be in danger from him. I'll just add a little fuel to the fire. You can be friends with whoever you want, but I'm not going to give up on you just because you want to push everyone away."_

_"I-" Harry's emotions had clogged up his throat. He couldn't speak. His eyes gathered with tears and that's when Hermione Jean Granger did it. She kissed him. She had given Harry his first hug in first year, she had given Harry his first kiss (even if it was on the cheek, it still counts). And it grew deeper, the kiss ( the proper kiss onto his lips), but he drew back, telling her they had to stop. But she just shook her head._

_"I want to do this, Harry. We both need this and I-" she was never allowed to finish because Harry had kissed her, silencing her._

_"I really like you, Hermione," Harry told her as he kissed her collar bone._

_"I really, really like you, too, Harry," she told him. And that was all the permission he needed. He made love to her for the first time – for either of them – and he wouldn't have traded a moment of it, not even for the Dursley's worst torture._

_"I'm sorry, Hermione, I-" Harry began apologizing like an idiot. Hermione, clutching the sheet to her, smiled at Harry, shaking her head._

_"Stop, Harry," she said gently. "I don't regret it, not for the world..." she then grew uncharacteristically quiet and asked, "Do you?"_

_"No," Harry breathed at her in disbelief. "Of course not!"_

_"Then there's nothing to be sorry for," she told him simply._

And they started dating from that moment on. Of course, they never got a chance to tell anyone, because Ron was spouting about the latest Quidditch results the entire train ride home, oblivious to Hermione holding Harry's hand. Or was it Harry holding Hermione's hand? Harry couldn't remember as the tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn't deserve Hermione, he didn't deserve anyone.

Yet his heart wouldn't let him let go of Hermione. He loved her, he loved her like he needed oxygen to breathe. He didn't know what he'd do if he couldn't make it to Hogwarts this coming year. Hermione had started to become his reason for living. He couldn't bear to hurt her... they already couldn't write this summer, Hedwig being at the Weasley's since he couldn't keep her here any longer. What would change this summer?

Harry immediately stopped struggling, hoping the pain was over. Vernon had marked his arms, tying them to the bedpost to stop the boy wizard from struggling too much. Harry could feel the blood dripping onto the bed, slowly causing him to loose his lifeforce. It should be over. This was where it usually ended.

But Harry was wrong.

"Dudley, get the things from downstairs," Vernon ordered. "We're going to have a little fun."

Fear gripped Harry. What was this 'fun'?

Dudley returned, but Harry could not see what was happening. All he felt was something sharp slide across his back, tearing the flesh apart. Excruciating pain caused him to cry out.

 _Please, I just want this all to end... I wish I was somewhere safe,_ Harry thought desperately. _Any place safe_.

Scalding hot water was poured onto Harry, causing him to scream. He'd broken both rules: never show them you're in pain; never cry.

And as the Dursley's dragged the boy to the cupboard under the stairs, that's exactly what Harry did.

Cried out in pain and cried out his frustration. How could Dumbledore allow this? Dumbledore had to know what happened every summer here! He had to.

And Harry passed out from the sheer stress of the activities, praying to any God that would listen to take him away from here so he'd never have to return. Praying he would just die.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hermione, come down for some tea!"

"Coming, Mum!" she called, the Daily Prophet stretched in her hands as she read the article of her boyfriend. Hermione Jean Granger was used to seeing him in the paper everyday, but this topic had never been written about before, and believed.

HE'S BACK! was printed in bold letters, and below stood Harry Potter and Professor Albus Dumbledore.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed. It was only three weeks into the break, but the bushy haired bookworm was already awaiting her arrival to the Burrow. She knew that when she got to the Burrow, she was that much closer to seeing her boyfriend once more. Homework was already finished, as she had done the required essays a week following the arrival back in the Muggle world. Custom to most teenagers, Hermione had yet to tell her parents she was dating the Boy Wizard, Destined Savior of the Wizarding World. Harry Potter, however, was all she could talk about on the car ride home.

Besides Hermione, on the covers of her bed, was a pregnancy test. A very positive pregnancy test. So lost in trying to comfort Harry, and not expecting what had happened to happen, the brightest witch of her age forgot to take a contraception potion for the day. Not that she regretted what had happened with Harry, she just wished that perhaps it had not ended in this. Hermione knew her parents were going to murder her.

She was Hermione Granger. She didn't make stupid mistakes! But she paused that train of thought. It wasn't a mistake. This baby - this human life inside of me - isn't a mistake. She would care for it, she would love it, and she would give it the life that would be deserved.

Throwing the test into the bedside drawer, she rose and folded the paper before walked down the stairs to see her mother. Smiling a bit forcefully, she took a cup of tea from the tray on the table. Her mother was very observant, and saw right through the plastered smile.

"Feeling alright, dear?"

Hermione nodded to the dark brown haired woman, "Just fine, Mum. I feel a little under the weather, but I'm sure I'll get over it soon."

She still didn't believe her daughter, instead set her cup of tea down, "Anything you'd like to tell me?"

Hermione took a deep breath, considering spilling the heartbreaking news, but thought better of it. "No, but some honey would be great."

She gave her a concerned glance, but nodded, "Honey?"

"Please," Hermione added. The elder brunette walked from the room with a nod, and returned shortly after with a small bottle of honey. Hermione was quiet as she squeezed the exact amount she liked into her tea, thinking as she did so.

That night, things were forgotten between her mother and her. Dinner had went by uneventfully, and Hermione was in her bedroom dressing for the night. Her fingers touched her stomach unconsciously and she jerked them away as she realized what she was doing. Perhaps if she thought things through for a moment tomorrow, she'd be able to find the Gryffindor courage buried deep inside her to tell her parents. She had time, there was no rush.

Or so she thought. It was not every day that Hermione had an idea that was wrong, or a thought that wasn't correct. Ronald Weasley, Hermione's best friend besides Harry, would have a field day with the thought of Hermione being wrong. To him, it was impossible. Ron... Hermione knew that he would be furious when he found out about herself and Harry. Hermione knew that Ron had had a crush on her for years, but could never find it in herself to fancy him back. Her suspicions were only confirmed when Harry had informed her of it after they shared their first snogging session.

"Ronald was just a friend, and nothing more. If you don't kiss me in the next three seconds, your Firebolt is going home with me," she had said. She had counted, as well, quietly as she playfully tried to kiss him, but Harry had started to mutter about breaking some friendship code.

Glancing at the Firebolt that leant against her trunk, she allowed a smirk to play on her lips. Harry had believed her, and after three seconds, he did resume snogging her, but told her she could take the broom. He said it was an insurance policy so that he had no choice but to see her on the train when they got back.

A knock caused her to jump and divert her eyes from the broomstick to the door. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Mum?" Hermione slid her pajama bottoms on as the door opened and her mother's head peeked through. Shutting the door quietly behind her, the Muggle gave her witch daughter a very concerned once-over.

"Are you feeling better?" she said at last.

Hermione exhaled in relief, "Loads. I think it was just some candy from the train I had left over. I might have went bad. I didn't think to check."

The mother gave a small frown at the word candy, but nodded, "Very well." She didn't leave, though, like usual. She walked over to Hermione's bed and sat down at the foot of it. "Hermione, you're growing up. And I know you're dating that Harry boy now, I could just tell by the way you talked about him in the car and-"

"Mum," Hermione groaned, her eyes wide. Her mother was not going to give her this talk... She felt guilty enough already.

"I'm not giving you the talk. I just want you to know that if you ever feel like you need to talk to me, you can." She pushed the brown hair her daughter had inherited from her out of her eyes. She then smoothed out the turquoise blouse she was wearing. "I had you when I was seventeen, you know."

"I know," Hermione said quietly.

"And I never let it stop me from achieving my dreams while giving you the best life you could have," her mum gave her a watery smile, blushing embarrassed as she turned to look at a painting of ballerina's on the pink walls. Hermione never had painted it since she went to Hogwarts. "And no matter what you do in life, no matter what you chose, I won't ever be disappointed in you because you've already achieved more than I thought possible."

Hermione bit her lip, feeling tears of guilt swim in her eyes. Hermione could never keep anything from her, no matter what it was. "That means a lot, Mum."

"And if you ever feel like you're going to disappoint me, it's okay to tell me."

She had to know. She was giving her daughter a suspicious look, but not accusing. "Why are you telling me this, mum? You know I'd tell you anything."

"Have you and Harrry... have you two slept together?"

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, as her mother was never so blunt, "Mum!"

"I just want to know, dear," she said calmly.

Hermione glanced at the book on her nightstand, "I'm sorry. Really, it's just-"

"Dear, it's alright. I just want you to be careful."

Hermione glanced up, meeting her mother's chocolate eyes, and stood from the bed, walking over to the nightstand. Opening the drawer, it was hard to believe she was going to do this. Just a few minutes ago she was going to give herself time. She gripped the pregnancy test and turned to face her mother. "I-There's a charm in the Wizarding World." She took the test from her daughter soundlessly, glancing at it before looking at the teen with wide eyes. "It's like birth control. And it's a very complex spell, I couldn't even perform it if I tried. The potion takes months to brew and I didn't have months. So I did the charm. And I must not have done it right..." She gave the pregnant girl a look as if to say, 'you think?' Hermione took a deep breath, continuing, "I'm pregnant, mum. I-I'm so sorry. I didn't exactly think this would happen. We were careful. And we didn't – I mean, I didn't-"

Hermione's mother calmly met the brown eyes that were swimming with tears, "Hermione-"

"I mean, I thought the charm worked and I thought that-" Hermione babbled nervously, wringing her hands together to stop from crying.

"Hermione-"

"I knew you'd be so angry. I'd been trying to figure out how to tell you. And I don't regret it. I don't regret what I've done with Harry," Hermione said in a determined, yet wobbly voice. "But I don't want to make you mad at the same time. I know Dad'll be so disappointed and-"

"Your father and I were your age, Hermione," her mum interrupted. "I'm not angry. How- How far along are you?"

"Almost a month," Hermione sighed, sitting down.

"We'll tell your father after you go back to school," her mum decided. "I don't want him to stop you from going, although I know he wouldn't. That makes you due near the beginning of February."

Hermione nodded. She had done the math so many times over the last few days that she had nearly concluded a due date.

"I'm really going to be a grandmother," the elder woman gasped. "I'm only thirty five! Heavens help me!"

"I'm sorry, mum," Hermione gave a small smile of amusement though. Her mother was truly young.

"Does the boy, Harry, know?" the Muggle asked suddenly.

"We can't write over the summer," Hermione admitted. "His Aunt and Uncle hate magic and-"

"Aunt and Uncle?"

"His parents were killed," Hermione explained. The discarded Prophet from earlier found its way in Hermione's hand and she passed it to her mother next. "By the man they talk about in this. He was only a baby. He alone can save the Wizarding World from this Dark Lord. And he has to or everyone else dies. I would be killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You and Dad would be killed. All of the Weasley's. All my friends."

"There's a war," she said calmly, reading the article.

Hermione nodded, sitting back down on the bed and watching her mother as she read it, "Where this was taken, Harry's godfather died. I was comforting him, that's how we... well-"

"Shagged," my mum murmured absently, flipping the page to scan through the magical paper, amazed at the way the columns were twisting around and the pictures moved.

Hermione blushed, "Yeah. Things got a little carried away. But -"

"You wanted it, right?" she asked. "You weren't forced or anything?"

"Never," Hermione said immediately. "Harry's not like that. He's the most selfless, loyal, and caring person I know. He even has Dad beat. If Harry knew a little boy that was dying of heart failure, he'd give his own heart for the boy, regardless. His boggart takes the shape of fear. He doesn't want to be afraid. But with the war now, that's inevitable-"

"Boggarts are those things that take the shape of what you fear most?" her mum remembered from one of those incredibly long letters her daughter had written in third year.

Hermione nodded, "He fears a dementor," She grabbed one of the many books from the floor, stacked mattress high. Flipping it open, Hermione showed her mother the page as she set the Prophet down. "A dementor represents fear, unhappiness, and the cold."

"This boy sounds very brave," her mother admitted.

Hermione nodded, smiling slightly, "As brave as a lion, Mum. He took on the Dark Lord on his own, not needing any guidance. He wanted to protect his friends. And he did. He saved us all, even though the dearest thing to him was murdered inches from him."

The elder woman frowned, "He's been through so much. How does he handle it?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know how he does it. All the burdens he has to bear..." She bit her lip and glanced at the pregnancy test on the covers. "I don't want him to worry about anything else."

"You want an abortion?" her mother asked in surprise.

"Never!" the witch gasped. "Never. This is my child as much as it is his."

"Good," her mother nodded. "I'd never allow abortion anyway. Nor adoption."

Hermione gave a relieved smiled, "Good, then we agree on that."

"Now, can I ask something?" Hermione nodded at her mum, leaning forward to look to where she was pointing. "Who is that man?"

Hermione stared the picture of Arthur Weasley. My Life as Harry's Care-Taker.

"What!?" Hermione shrieked. "He's anything but Harry's guardian! Harry is only at the Burrow for a few weeks before school, and Arthur's never home. He's always working!"

"Dear, I'm sure it's a misunderstanding," Mum insisted. Hermione was fuming, seeing past reason, and made a go to reach for the paper. But a loud crack - like that of apparation, caused Hermione to freeze. Her mother screamed and Hermione gasped at the sight lying on the middle of her bedroom floor.

"Harry!?" Hermione cried, her heart pounding into overdrive. A groan escaped Harry's bloodied lips and Hermione launched herself off the bed, slamming her knees into the wooden floor as she fell next to him. "Harry!"


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter was unconscious. The blood was caked around his face, some days old and some from what was probably hours before. His onyx hair was matted and, while still in its characteristic messy do, smothered with blood so it now looked a scarlett color. The color of blood.

The boy wonder was barely recognizable, with no glasses resting atop his nose - granted his nose was broken and bleeding. His right arm - his wand arm - was swollen, twisted at an odd angle. Hermione knew it was broken. He was sprawled on his side, the broken arm across his chest and his cheek resting against the floor. His back was exposed to Hermione, as he was shirtless, and was laced with gushing wounds, burns, and blisters. He was clad in a pair of blood soaked jeans and the legs inside them were curled towards him like a fetal position.

"Mum," Hermione said in a bossy tone, immediately recalling the healing books she had read in the restriction section. "In my trunk, there's a beaded bag. In there, there's a bottle, labeled Essence of Dittany. Give me that. Quickly!"

Hermione moved so she was kneeling in front of Harry. Her heart still beating like a war drum, she carefully touched his shoulder of the broken arm and rolled him onto his chest, bringing the broken arm spread eagle on the floor beside her. A whimper of pain could barely be heard escaping him.

"Harry, can you hear me? It's Hermione," Hermione spoke in a soothing voice. "I'm here. You're safe. No can hurt you anymore." Running a hand through his matted hair, Hermione felt tears building in her eyes. Who would do this to him? Who would do this to anyone? "Can you hear me? Harry, please... can you hear me?"

He didn't reply. Hermione checked for a pulse, her hands shaking, and almost afraid he had died right there before her. Her heart nearly stopped when she found the soft thud against his neck. She allowed a breath of relief and leaned forward slightly, listening to him breath. It was very shallow, but he was alive. He was asleep... Hermione wondered how anyone could sleep in this pain.

"This is going to sting," Hermione murmured quietly, the tears now falling down her cheeks. She took the vial from her mother's shaking, outstreached hands and pulled the stopper from the top. "I'm so sorry," she repeated under her breath, letting the liquid drop onto the gashes on his back. As they healed, Hermione could see scars of old lashings, old wounds. She recalled wondering, when they had made love, why he had scars on his chest, but knew that he probably got them from one of his many accidents in Quidittch.

Hermione knew she had been wrong again, and it sickened her to think that this had been going on for a while. His muscles twitched under the pain from the potion, but his voice remained silent.

"I'm sorry," Hermione kept repeating, self-loathing setting into her bones as she could see the pain that she was causing, but knew she was only making it better in the long-run. Her voice escaped her in near sobs and she hurried to try to heal his back as best she could. Once the wounds were healed on his back, she took the potion and dabbed it on her own hands, still clean, before rubbing them on his bloodied back. The blistered burns healed at her touch and slowly his skin turned into a pinkish color under the blood. She could feel the muscles twitch and feel every scar and lashing he had.

She couldn't stop the tears from falling and tried to keep them off his back. "Is there anything I can do?" Mum asked, frantically looking him over.

"Get dad," Hermione choked out. "I need him to fix the arm, to set it. There's a potion in my bag, when you get back, labeled Skele-Gro. I need that. I can heal the rest while you're gone."

Her mother ran from the room, probably desperate for a breath of air. Slowly, Hermione turned her boyfriend over and winced at the lacerations on his chest, stomach, and face. His stubbled cheeks had knicks on them and Hermione used her hands to apply more Dittany to his face, wincing as he grimaced.

"Harry, I need you to wake up," Hermione said gently, her thumb carressing his face. Any reaction would be a better one than "Harry, please. I need you awake. I have to know what hurts."

His face had a broken jaw and a broken nose, which she couldn't heal without him awake and drinking the skelegrow. As her hands rubbed the dittany onto his chest, she could feel that his collar bone, and many ribs were broken, including his arm. "Oh, Harry." Hermione quickly got to work on trying to rub the blood off of him.

When Hermione heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, she was alerted to her parents arrival. "Emma, stay in your room," her mother's voice sounded. There was a small argument and then the pitter-patter of feet down the hall. Hermione finished her work just as her father knelt beside her, a hand going to his ginger hair in amazement. He was an Emergency Room doctor as well as a dentist, whereas my mother was just a dentist.

"Fracture," her father murmured, touching Harry's arm lightly. Her mother handed Hermione the vial that the young witch had stolen from Madame Pomfrey's stores, labeled Skele-Gro. Hermione had had that unsettling feeling that she would need it. But only for the usually Quidittch games at the Burrow.

"I need it set before I can give this to him," Hermione informed her Dad, rubbing with her wrist to wipe tears away. The swelling of Harry's face was only getting worse. This was recent, then. "Harry? Harry, you need to be awake for me, please." Hermione noticed how much her voice shook in desperation. "I need you to drink this. I stole Skele-Gro from Madame Pomfrey. And you can't swallow it unless you're awake so you really need to just open your eyes."

Of course, Hermione knew she was babbling to stop from freaking out and panicking, but she couldn't care less at the moment. All that mattered was keeping Harry alive. "I need you awake so my dad can help and make sure you're alright. Can you please wake up for me?" She bit her lip and prayed he would. "Please, Harry. You have to-" His eyes shot open and his back arched in pain as my father quickly moved the bone into place.

And Harry started to breathe heavily, resisting the urge to scream. His green eyes stared at nothing on Hermione's ceiling, and she had to speak to calm him down.

"Harry, it's okay," she whispered, her hand touching his hair soothingly. "It's Hermione. You're at my house. Drink this, I promise, the pain will stop. I promise. It's just like when Lockhart got rid of the bone in your arm. I swear, it'll only hurt a moment. You can sleep after my dad checks you over, okay?"

Harry wasn't even seeing his girlfriend. He was staring at the ceiling as he suppressed the pain. Hermione pressed the vial to his lips and he drank. Hope swelled in her. Perhaps he had heard her speak? As soon as the entire potion was gone, he gave a soft whimper.

"It's okay," Hermione whispered, tears in her eyes once more. She could do nothing more now. Hermione ran her hand gently through his hair, soothingly. "Everything's going to be alright."

"It's not real," Harry's lips barely moved and it was painfully obvious it hurt to talk, his jaw being broken and all. "You're not really here. I'm dead. They've killed me this time, haven't they?" His good arm slowly rose and gripped Hermione's hand, that was running through his hair. His eyes widened. "Hermione?"

"I'm here," Hermione promised, kissing his forehead. "It's okay. You're going to be okay. You need rest."

"Kill me..." Harry's voice broke as he arched his back in pain. Hermione tightened her grip on his hand, "Kill me already..." Harry never gave up, and to see him give up was heartbreaking.

"Shh," Hermione hushed him. "Just go to sleep. You'll be back to new when you wake up."

He gave a jerky nod and his eyes closed, completely trusting Hermione with his life.

"What is he doing here?" Dad asked, leaning back on his heels. His hands fisted in his red hair, gazing at the boy sprawled on his daughter's floor.

"He just appeared out of nowhere, Richard," Mum insisted. "I don't know-"

"He accidentally apparated," Hermione interrupted. "He must have been in such extreme pain, his magic willed itself here. Anywhere could have been the destination."

"But why here?"

Hermione shrugged, but her mum spoke, "He obviously cares for Hermione. He must have associated her with someplace safe. And here he came."

"I'll get the guest room ready," Dad sighed.

"No, I'll stay in the guest room," Hermione insisted immediately. "I don't want to have him moved too far. His bones can easily re-break before the morning."

"I will not have my daughter's boyfriend in her bed-"

"I'm not sleeping in here!" Hermione insisted, blushing furiously. "I'll be sleeping in the guest room. And Harry will be fine, Dad, I promise nothing'll happen here."

Hermione's eyes subconsciously met her mother's, causing her mum to flush as well. "Are you sure we shouldn't just take him to the hospital?" Dad asked.

Hermione nodded, "Positive. He is safest here. In the hospital... the Death Eaters could find him, or whoever did this to him."

"Alright, I'll go then," Hermione's father sighed, standing slowly and glancing at his wife and daughter, "You two ladies be careful."

"He's not going to hurt us, Dad," Hermione muttered, her hand still clutching Harry's hand. He was squeezing it for dear life.

Hermione's father rolled his eyes and walked out of her room. Hermione immediately grabbed her wand from beside her and bit her lip as she levitated him, careful to put his arm on his chest so it didn't move. His fingers squeezed her tighter than before. As he hovered over Hermione's bed, Hermione's free hand, her wand hand, pulled back the blanket, knocking over a few things from it onto the floor. Her mother helped her, catching her drift and Hermione slowly lowered Harry onto the mattress. Hermione's mother picked up the things that had fallen off the bed and placed them in the drawer of the nightstand.

Hermione tucked the covers around Harry hesitantly, and slowly pried Harry's fingers from her hands.

"Dear, are you sure the hospital-?"

"The potions are enough," Hermione cut her mother off. "When he wakes up, I'll give him a blood replenishing potion and a dreamless sleeping one."

"Do you need anything?" my mother asked.

"Not at the moment," Hermione admitted, "I don't want to overwhelm him when he wakes up."

"I'll leave you alone with him for a few minutes then," Mum said softly. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Night, Mum," Hermione returned softly, her fingers tracing through Harry's hair.

"You have to tell him soon, dear," her mother told her. Hermione swallowed hard, nodding, and knew she was right.

"I will."

The door clicked shut behind her. Hermione sat down on the side of the bed, near Harry's shoulder. "You have to get better soon, Harry," Hermione whispered. "I can't heal the rest until you wake up."

She kissed his forehead and turned her lamp on, but turned the overhead lights off. Hermione didn't want him waking up in total darkness, unaware of his surroundings. Harry let out a small sigh as she opened the door and she shut the door behind her with a soft click.


	4. Chapter 4

"You're sure about this?" Dad asked as he grabbed the sheet off of the chair in the corner of the guest room.

Hermione nodded, "I can't concentrate on keeping him still long enough to get him down the hall. He'll be in a lot of pain tonight while the bones mend, but he'll be back to himself by morning."

Hermione Granger couldn't sleep all night. By midnight – just two hours after his arrival – she crept out of the guest room and towards her bedroom. She could hear my dad's snores and knew he'd be dead to the world until eight tomorrow morning.

Harry was awake when she entered, cursing in pain under his breath. When Hermione caught his attention, he immediately, stopped, glancing up at her, squinting his eyes.

"I don't have anything for the pain yet, sorry," Hermione told him quietly.

"So you weren't a dream," Harry murmured, watching Hermione as she moved towards her trunk, retrieving an item he needed.

Hermione shook her head, a smile tugging her lips, "'fraid not. You really scared me, Harry."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, glancing down at his lap. Handing him the item she had retrieved, he let out a relieved breath and slid the round glasses on his face. "Thanks."

Hermione sighed, "It's not your fault. I think you did accidental magic. But I don't know for sure. Do you remember what you were thinking?"

"I wanted someplace safe," Harry said, his cheeks turning pink, embarrassed. Hermione wondered why that would be embarrassing. "I was in so much pain, I just wanted it to stop. And I kept thinking how I didn't deserve y-" He stopped and shrugged, causing his breath to hitch.

"Stop moving," Hermione instructed, instantly by his side and hovering over him, trying to figure out exactly what to fix. "Your face healed perfectly. Which is good. It was awful looking. And Harry, you deserve far better than me," she gazed at him intently. "I don't deserve you," Hermione said it so quietly, the last part, that she didn't think he heard her.

"Finally handsome enough for you, Hermione?" Harry teased.

She shrugged, teasing, "You could do better. I hear Colin Creevey's available, you know."

He chuckled, "Ouch."

"I really missed you, Harry."

"I missed you a lot more, Hermione."

Hermione smiled and pulled the covers down to check his ribs. He was so skinny... As she poked around, he winced. "Still tender. They should be done in an hour. The arm, though, should be done by six. I think it was shattered, Harry."

"As long as I can still play Quidditch, it doesn't matter," he grinned.

Hermione bit her lip, to stop from asking. She knew he'd tell me when he was ready, but the curiosity was killing her. She wanted to hurt them for what they had done to Harry. He had sat with unrecognizable expressions on his face. She had only seen that much pain in his expression after the Sirius had died.

"Go on, ask," Harry smirked. "You get that look in class, cutely biting your lip and lowering your eyes like you got in trouble."

Hermione blushed, but cleared her throat nervously, "Who did this, Harry? Honestly?" She didn't get an answer for a moment. It was silent in the room except for the quiet ticking of the bedside clock. She nervously played with her hair, her eyes not moving from his green orbs. For some reason, and Hermione didn't know why, she couldn't look away.

"My cousin and Uncle," Harry answered quietly. "My Aunt knew, but she couldn't stop it or anything. I mean... she wasn't too fond of me either."

Hermione gasped. She hadn't guessed this. She didn't know what she expected, but not that the Dursley's did this to him. "Harry, that's horrible! Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Last year we had enough problems. With the Dementors, the trial, Arthur... Sirius." his voice broke on the last name and squeezed his hand gently.

"I don't care if the world is ending and I'm walking on broken legs," Hermione stated fiercely. "I want you to tell me anything that bothers you. Even if it's me."

Harry chuckled, "Deal."

"Now you should sleep," Hermione sighed. "You really shouldn't be awake."

"This is your room, isn't it?" Harry asked, glancing around.

The witch nodded, "Don't laugh. It hasn't been painted since I was eleven."

"Ballerinas," Harry observed, sending his girlfriend an appreciative smile. "Nice."

"Shut up," she muttered, her cheeks turning crimson, smacking his good arm. "I did dance when I was little."

"Did you?" Harry grinned, looking at the room

"Yes, and I was very good at it," Hermione said hotly. Her tone was ruined when she started to laugh. "Just promise me you'll sleep and I'll be here in the morning to give you some more potions."

"How did I get in the bed? I remember being on the floor."

"I levitated you," she told him simply. "No one carried you. We aren't that accomodating."

Harry snorted, but immediately stopped from doing so, giving another small wince of pain, which Hermione noticed. "It's the thought that counts."

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood from the bedside, causing it to squeak lightly. Walking towards her trunk, she dug around her beaded bag until she got a potion that was a light blue color. "Drink this," Hermione requested, handing it to him.

He took it with his good arm and downed it, before asking, "What is it?"

"Harry!" Hermione scolded, her eyes widening in disbelief. "You don't just drink something without finding out what it is first! I could be a Death Eater in disguise! And you could have just drinken poison!"

Harry shrugged, "I trust you."

"Dreamless Sleep," Hermione sighed, shaking her head slightly. "I figure you can use it well. I brew it for the nightmares, but I added some pain potion elements to it as well, so you shouldn't be in too much pain. I'm just glad you're awake."

"Nightmares?" Harry murmured, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, "You have nightmares?"

Hermione gave him a shrug, "Just of the war. It's... it's nothing compared to what it could be."

Harry clutched her hand in his, running his fingers along her knuckles, "I'm... I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Hermione insisted. "You need rest... Please, try to get some sleep. I'll turn off the lamp, if you'd like?"

"It's fine on," Harry sighed. "Stay with me?"

Hermione thought of her father, and of how he'd have a fit if he knew she had stayed here, but ignored reason. What was the worst that could happen? She was already pregnant. And Harry's condition was far too frail - though better than it was - for him to be left alone. She knew she could blame it one worry.

"Okay," Hermione whispered.

Harry let a small hitch of his breath escape him as he shifted.

"No!" Hermione said immediately. "Don't move. I'll sleep on the floor-"

"Nonsense! The bed's plenty big!" Harry insisted. "I won't move."

Hermione bit her lip, but agreed and reached for his face, taking the glasses from his eyes and putting them on the nightstand beside him. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione," Harry sighed and closed his eyes, resting into the lavender colored pillow. Hermione gently laid on the small space beside him and stared at his face, watching as he drifted off. Eventually, sleep came to her as well. Finally, she knew he was safe, and he was going to be alright.


	5. Chapter 5

"I don't want to be a bother-"

"Harry, you will eat this breakfast and you will like it," Hermione told him fiercely as she set the plate on the bed in front of him. He was too weak to walk yet, and he was a little pale, but his arms rested on his stretched legs. He was sitting up so that he could see her fully. Hermione was clad in a pair of fresh jeans, her hair still damp from her shower, and a loose fitting canary yellow sweatshirt - she was dressed for comfort.

Harry sighed and took a bite of the english muffin. "I'm full," he announced, setting the muffin back on the plate. Hermione sent him a look of disapproval.

"My mum gave you an hour to eat everything on this plate, take a shower, and be fully prepared for when my dad gets in here. So you better be up and ready to move. Finish it, Harry. And then I can talk to you," the witch threatened.

"If you talk to me while I'm eating, then I'll eat," the injured wizard compromised.

Hermione wrung her hands nervously, "I was actually hoping to stall... just for a little while, at least."

He took a bite of his bacon, chewing it, savoring the flavor, it seemed. Like he'd never get a meal like this again, Hermione noticed. By the looks of how skinny he was, he had hardly eaten at all since summer began.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked after swallowing his mouthful.

Hermione swallowed hard, clamping her clammy hands tightly on her lap. Merlin, it was now or never. "Harry-I-"

"Is this about what was in your drawer?" Harry asked suddenly, interrupting her. Hermione was only a little relieved, before her eyes widened in alarm. Many personal things were in that drawer, not just the pregnancy test.

"What?" she asked. "You went through my drawer? Harry!"

"When I woke up," Harry explained hastilly as his girlfriend's eyes narrowed at him, "around eleven, I was trying to figure out where I was. I couldn't move very far, and I searched the drawer a bit. I found a scroll with your handwriting on it. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"But you didn't know," Hermione interrupted. "It's alright. Yes, it's about that." At least she didn't have to explain much. But she still felt the need to say it. "I'm pregnant, Harry."

But at the same moment, Harry said, "Arthur's just being written about by Skeeter-"

"Wait, what are you talking about?" they asked each other at the same time, Hermione's heart sinking with horror. He hadn't seen the test...

Hermione paled, moritified, "Oh my god. You thought I was talking about the... the article...?"

"You're pregnant?" Harry whispered, his eyes as round as his glasses.

Hermione pressed her lips together, the tears filling her eyes as she nodded. "I-I thought I cast the charm correctly. I swear I did. And then I wake up and I'm late and I just... I went to a Muggle friend's house and she bought the test for me. I took ten. They were all positive."

"Who else knows, besides your parents?" Harry's voice was hoarse, as if he was hyperventilating. Hermione closed her eyes and bowed her head toward her lap in defeat. Harry wasn't... Harry didn't want this.

"Just Stacy, that Muggle friend, and my mum," she told him quietly. "I haven't told Dad yet. Mum said I shouldn't until I'm further along."

"Your father's going to hate me," Harry moaned.

"My father really likes you already," Hermione told Harry quietly, giving him a small smile as she looked up. Harry raised an eyebrow of disbeleif. "He knows all about the things you've done in school. My parents were my age when they had me. They understand. My mum was excited, actually."

Harry was quiet, "But Hogwarts! You'll be showing-"

"I know," Hermione bit her lip. "I'm working on it, actually."

"You do want to keep the baby, right?" Harry asked suddenly, meeting her eyes intently. "I mean, you aren't thinking about-"

"No," Hermione gasped, cutting him off. "I want to keep 'em. But if you don't want to, then I can raise it on my own." She bit her lip once more, and lowered her eyes.

"I want to be there," Harry insisted. "It's apart of the both of us. And I don't want you to raise it by yourself. And I really like you. This doesn't change anything." But at the same time it changes everything, Hermione thought.

"So you aren't mad?" Hermione asked, surprised he was so calm. Harry Potter never had a malicious bone in his body, though, so she shouldn't have been so surprised.

"Never," Harry answered. "I mean, we didn't exactly plan this, but I'm not just going to push this opportunity away. I'd love to have a family with you, Hermione."

Hermione grinned, her shoulders dropping in relief, "I'd love to have one with you."

He pushed the plate aside and held out his arms to her, silently demanding a hug. "Come here."

"You stink," Hermione wrinkled her nose jokingly, but obliged. She was careful that she didn't bump any of his bruises and rested her head on his chest as she hugged him tightly.

He chuckled, running a hand through her hair, "You look like you haven't gotten any sleep."

"I was worried," Hermione muttered, her cheeks flaming. Perhaps she hadn't gotten much sleep, but she had enough to make it through the day.

"You should take a nap," Harry insisted, pulling away from her. He made to let her have the bed, but she cut him off with an eyeroll.

"Harry, I have to get you clean first," she spoke. "Now, come on. Let's get you in the shower. Mum found some of my dad's clothes that he thinks he fits into. He really doesn't though. She gave them to me," I let my eyes drift to the pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt at the foot of the bed. "You can use my shower. It's girl shampoo though."

"I'll just smell like you," he kissed the top of his girlfriend's head and she sighed, resting her cheek against his bare chest. "I think I'll get through the embarrassment."

"Shut up," Hermione giggled, but grew serious as she remembered. Quietly, she hesitated to say, "Dad... um, Dad wants to go to your Aunt and Uncle's... get your things."

"No," Harry said immediately. "No, he can't go there."

"Harry, you need your trunk for school-" Hermione began.

"I only have potion ingredients there," he sighed. "I sent the rest with the Weasley's. I just needed things to brew healing potions."

"Your wand?" Hermione demanded, drawing back to meet his eyes.

"The Weasley's," Harry admitted, giving a sheepish shrug.

"If you were attacked!" Hermione gasped in outrage. "Harry, it's not safe without a wand, you know that! You could have been attacked again by dementors!"

"I know, but I'd rather not have a broken wand then be taken by Death Eaters," Harry reasoned.

Knowing he was right, but didn't want to admit it, Hermione changed the subject, "Let's get you in the shower, then."

"I like hearing your voice," Harry spoke quietly.

Hermione blushed, standing from the bed and gathering the clothes as she walked into the bathroom. "Come on, shower, mister. Or I will have my mother hand wash you. I'm warning you, she talks in baby voices while she does it!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, slowly standing from the bed. "Are you hand-washing me?"

"Harry!" Hermione blushed violently and wacked him with the clothes he'd be wearing. Before Harry could insinuate anymore, she stepped by the shower, turning it on to the appropriate temperature. She spun around to get Harry out of bed, but stopped her scold when Harry was limping towards her. "Are you hurting?"

He shook his head, "Just, uh, sore a little."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, not believing that for a second. "You're lying. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he insisted.

Hermione sighed, "Fine. But you have fifteen minutes. If you're in here longer, I'll walk in unnanounced. I don't care if you're naked or getting dressed."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Harry muttered cheekily.

Hermione gave a sigh as he reached the shower, and glanced at the mirror to see it steaming. Shutting the door behind her, she left. Taking the now empty plate from her bed, she carried it downstairs, where her mother was just finishing her own breakfast.

"Is he awake?" her father asked from around the paper.

"Yes, he's taking a shower. He... he kinda refused to eat," Hermione admitted.

"Why would he do that?" Mrs. Granger gasped.

Hermione shrugged, "But he ate it all. Um, dad, you don't have to go to the Dursley's. Harry said his stuff is at the Weasley's right now."

"That's good," Mr. Granger approved. "When can we go up there and talk to him?"

"After I give him his internal injuries potion. He needs a full stomach for it."

Hermione left them ten minutes later, and pulled the bloodied sheets from her bed, taking them to the wash. She knew that while the stains were fresh, they'd be very difficult to get out. But as long as Harry was no longer dying, she didn't mind.

When she returned with a pair of fresh sheets, he was stepping out of the shower, his hair no longer matted with blood. He had a slight limp, but Hermione could tell he was trying to hide it from her. Why?

She dumped the unfolded sheets on the bed and gave him a once over, "Much better," she approved.

Pulling out her wand, Harry stiffened, "You aren't seventeen!"

"Time turner," Hermione explained, smirking. "I'm about six months older. So I'm seventeen and three months, or something like that. No longer than a year though."

"Always so far ahead of everyone else," Harry teased.

Hermione shrugged, but watched his limp as he walked towards the bed. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's fine now."

Hermione gasped with the realization she didn't check his legs last night for any injuries, and her hands flew to her hair, "You didn't break anything, did you? Like, your legs? They have to be hurting! I'm so stupid! Drop 'em."

"Hermione!" Harry protested, shocked.

"I've seen you naked since I was eleven, Harry," Hermione reminded him. "Drop them."

"It's fine. Just some bruises," Harry told her. "There's nothing to worry about."

Hermione sighed, "Fine. We'll do this the hard way, then." With a flick of her wand, she forced his pants to drop.

There were old gashes on his thighs that had partially healed, scabbed over. She grimaced at the sight and glanced at Harry, but he wasn't looking at her. "They're fine, they're healing," Harry muttered.

"Harry, they're infected," Hermione insisted.

She flicked her wand once more and grabbed the Essence of Dittany as it came soaring through the air. She used the dropper to heal the wounds, to which he let out a grimace as it stung, and then she stood, flicking her wand and sending his pants back up.

"Now is it better?" she asked. Harry nodded, his shoulder's relaxing. "Good, now you need to get back in bed."

"I feel fine, Hermione," Harry insisted.

Hermione sighed, "Fine, drink these." A vial of blood replenishing potion and another of a small dose of Essence of Dittany. The Dittany would heal his internal injuries. And he did loose a lot of blood, just when he was bleeding here. Who knows what he lost at the Dursley's home.

"And these are?" Harry asked as he inspected the vials like she had warned him.

"You're learning," Hermione smiled happily, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Dittany and blood replenishing."

"Dittany?"

"Just drink it," Hermione smiled.

"Will it kill me?" Harry raised an eyebrow, staring at the muddy brown liquid.

"Would I give it to you if it did?" I countered.

"Good point," Harry said, uncorking the blood replenishing potion, drinking that, before staring at the Dittany. "Would you?"

"Drink it, Harry," Hermione laughed.

He did so and then she had him lie down while it worked through his body.

"You shouldn't do anything for twenty minutes," she informed him, "At least until it gets through your system. And I don't want to hear a thing about being lonely or how you're a bother. Just a single word and I will keep the firebolt, I swear I will."

Harry laughed richly, his eyes flickering to the broom in the corner. "I know you will. I think, Hermione Granger, that you secretly like flying and you just needed a broom to fly on."

"Actually, I hate flying," Hermione told him seriously. "I only attend those Quidditch matches to watch you play."

"Well, I'm honored," Harry held one hand to his heart.

"As you should be," Hermione smiled, rolling her eyes. "Now, let's see... I don't want you bored, so what are we going to do today?"

"You could let me fly," Harry suggested.

"Or I can just lock you in here," Hermione returned just as quickly. There was no way he was going to fly so close after recovering from his ordeal.

"That's fine," Harry grinned. "At least I'll have the broom."

"I would probably remove the broom from this room, Harry," Hermione snorted.

"You wouldn't!" Harry gasped.

Hermione looked him over as she giggled. The Oxford sweatshirt was obviously too big and hung loosely around him, that or he was really, really skinny from the Dursley's. The sweatpants fit him perfectly, which was good. They were Hermione's father's when he was their age.

"I would," she smirked, meeting his eyes. So green, like a forest.

He sighed in defeat, "Then do with me what you will."

She threw a book at him and he caught it easily, "We're finishing-"

"Homework," Harry finished.

She beamed, nodding, and grabbed a quill and parchment for each of us, "We have an essay for Professor Snape, a chart for Professor McGonnagall, and another essay for Binns."

Harry groaned, "Can we do Binns first? I don't want to save it for last."

Hermione noted his use of 'we' instead of 'you', as Ron would have said. She nodded, smiling even brighter, "Of course! Okay, so the Massacre of 1814..." She carried on, reading the passage aloud and Harry started to furiously scribble on the parchment. Hermione looked up in surprise when he stopped scribbling. Of course, Hermione had already finished her homework for the summer, but she knew it would be easier if she read the passage aloud to him, ellaborating on some parts.

"Done?" Hermione asked, shocked.

Harry shrugged, "Not that hard."

"But- you didn't even ask for help!" Hermione insisted, grabbing the parchment. Reading it over, she was shocked to find that it was immaculant. Perhaps not as perfect as it could be, but amazing for a first draft.

"Well, I have an excellent teacher," Harry winked.

"I'll be sure to tell Professor Binns, Harry," Hermione laughed.

Harry groaned, "Come on, Hermione."

"Sorry," Hermione apologized, still giggling under her breath. "Alright, Potions or Transfiguration?"

Harry scrunched up his nose, "Well... Transfiguration is boring and Snape hates me... so -"

"He doesn't hate you, Harry," Hermione scolded, interrupting.

"He does too!" Harry insisted. "Have you seen the look he gives me?"

"You know he hated your father, Harry, not you. He's just biased because of that."

"Hermione," Harry insisted, "He hates me."

Hermione shook her head, "He doesn't."

"Watch, I'll just walk into the room this year and he'll think I have a cheeky tone and take points off."

"He doesn't like Gryffindor's. He does that to everyone. Even me. I'm the insufferable know-it-all."

"I don't know how you do it, Hermione, go ignoring him. It's insane," Harry insisted.

Hermione shrugged, "He's just full of hot air, Harry. Let's do Potions."

"Effects of what, again?" Harry asked, reaching for another blank roll of parchment Hermione had offered him to use. He dipped the quill in ink and scribbled his name along the top.

"Draught of Living Death," Hermione gave.

Harry groaned, "Isn't that the one where you drink it and you look and feel dead?"

A knock interrupted that answer. Hermione turned her head, looking over her shoulder, to see her parents hovering in the doorway. The brunette Muggle was in a pair of khaki slacks and a red tee. Hermione's father, on the other hand, had blue jeans on and a dark blue jumper to set off his red hair.

Mum smiled at the couple, "Hey, sweetie. You must be Harry. I've heard so much about you."

"Yes, ma'am. It's great to finally meet you. I would get up, but Hermione's forbidden me from moving," Harry joked, politely.

"Not forbidden," Hermione insisted, turning slightly pink.

"What are you two doing in my daughter's bed?" My dad asked.

"Dad," Hermione groaned, flushing a darker red. "It's just homework!"

"Is that what they call it these days?" my father asked, looking over Harry. "I hope you showered alone, boy."

"Richard!" Hermione's mum smacked her husband's arm. "Don't mind him, Harry. We're happy to have you-"

"I'm so sorry about just barging in like I did. I-"

"Oh, you can stay as long as you want, dear," Mum grinned. "Actually, I prefer you don't leave at all. I've never had a son, so this would be a wonderful opportunity. Hermione, dear, Emma's wondering if you'll take her to the park."

Hermione glanced at Harry, "If I let you get out of bed, will you go to the park with my sister and I?"

"I can actually move around?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

Hermione sighed, already regretting giving him the choice. "Yes, I guess. But if you feel even the tiniest bit of pain we'll leave."

"As long as it's alright with your parents," Harry gave Hermione's mother and father a glance.

"Oh, by all means, you two get out of the house!" Mum nodded. Hermione's dad grumbled under his breath, but the entire room could hear it as loud as day.

"Why don't we just give them permission to mess around, Linda?" Richard had grumbled.

Linda elbowed him, "Now, out with you two. Lunch is at noon sharp!"

"Yes, Mum," Hermione smiled. Hermione set the books down and took Harry's hand, pulling him from her bed. "Come on. Emma's going to love you."

Harry followed his as they walked down the stairs. Hermione caught him glancing around curiously. Hermione knew her house was nothing special. If anything, it was the size of the Burrow. It was plain, just full of the necessities. Her parents didn't like buying things because they wanted to.

As Harry looked around, Hermione found Emma on the couch. Her four year old self was sitting, a book in her hands like her elder sister was always found. Her bushy brown hair was cropped short, red streaks in it from her father's side. She glanced up at the duo's arrival.

"Mia!" the little girl cried, jumping up. She glanced at Harry curiously. "Who are you?"

"Emma, this is Harry," Hermione introduced, "Harry, this is my sister, Emma."

Emma looked over Harry, "So you're Harry! Mia talks about you all the time. Did you really play a giant chess game?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing at his girlfriend, before crouching down and becoming eye level with Emma. "Well, I had a little help from Hermione, and our friend Ron. But yes. It was huge."

"Like bear sized?" Emma gasped.

"Bigger," Harry nodded.

Hermione suppressed a giggle as Emma grew wide-eyed. "But Mia said that it hurt your friend! Chess doesn't hurt people, does it?!"

Crap... "Well this one didn't really want us to play with it," Harry answered, as if he was expecting this. "It was a secret passage way."

"Woah, Mia never said that."

"Wonder why?" Harry said, obviously amused as he glanced at the witch.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Come on. Let's go to the park."

"Oh, yay, yay, yay!" Emma cried, grabbing her sister's hand and tugging the three of them to the door.

Hermione shot Harry a sympathetic look, "Come on." With a flick of her wand, there were a pair of shoes on his feet, Hermione's dad's, and Hermione grabbed his hand before Emma successfully pulled them from the house.


	6. Chapter 6

"Who's shoes are these?"

"My mum bought them for my dad ages ago, but they didn't fit. Now, stop worrying," Hermione insisted as they walked down the path. "When we exit the garden, the wards I put up will not be able to protect us anymore. So, stay close. Don't get too close," Hermione gave him a look and he loosened his grip on her hand, taking the hint. Nothing romantic. Just friends. "Emma knows not to get more than fifteen feet from me. You can't go more than five."

Harry nodded, "Understood."

A short distance down the road, they reached the park. It wasn't amazing and spectacular. It was just a little park. Swings, slide, and a few benches. Hermione pulled Harry to the bench next to the fence. Hermione didn't want to have the risk of someone coming from behind.

"How are you holding up?" Hermione asked him, worriedly watching his movements for any pain.

"Better than I've been in ages," Harry told her quietly. Hermione grimaced, knowing it wasn't an exaggeration.

"That's what I was hoping for," Hermione admitted.

Hermione's eyes turned to her sister, following the little girl's actions closely. The girl darted up the play set stairs before she slid down the slide. She repeated the action at least a dozen more times. Oh, to be young.

"How have you been?" Harry asked.

Hermione glanced at Harry for a second and met his eyes before turning her head to watch her sister once more, "I'm fine. Worried, hesitant, but I'm fine. I'm kinda dreading what's to come."

"Dreading?"

Hermione glanced around, making it seem like she was flicking her hair over her shoulder, "I don't want to talk about it in the open. It's not safe."

Harry nodded, "I understand." And he did. He had grown up not safe, and he knew better than anyone what being unsafe meant.

"Come on, let's swing," Hermione said suddenly, grabbing his hand and bringing him to the abandon swing set. They were the only three people here. As the duo swung, they laughed and discussed a few things about Hogwarts. After Harry assured her they hadn't seen the flying pig statue in front of the castle move - not once - they slowed into a steady rocking back and forth on the swing.

As Emma played, Hermione's eyes wandered around the park. Surrounded by a Muggle neighborhood, the small park was just the size of a house lot. No one hardly came here, though, as this neighborhood was hardly full of children. That fact showed by the condition of the park. The swings squeaked, the slide was a faded blue, and the mulch surrounding was in much need of being replaced. A comfortable silence settled between Harry and Hermione. The little girl didn't seem to wear out with all the running she was doing.

Harry suddenly stiffened, just as Hermione felt a coolness in the breeze. "Do you feel it?"

Hermione was quiet a moment, but knew what he was talking about. "We're being watched," she supplied, barely moving her lips.

Harry nodded, "It just started."

"I know," Hermione told him. "I just felt it, too." Hermione checked her watch, seeing it was eleven. A perfect excuse to leave quickly. "We should head back."

Hermione stood and Harry was immediately following, keeping close. He didn't have his wand. Hermione called to Emma and she happily skipped over. "Lunch already?"

"Fraid so, sis," Hermione ruffled her hair. "Listen," the older girl said quietly. "I need you to trust me."

She nodded, taking in her elder sister's serious expression, "M'kay. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Hermione forced out a smile, making herself seem calm and so that whoever was watching, from wherever, would see them relaxed. "Just hold my hand tightly, okay?"

"Okay," she said quietly, gripping her sister's hand until her fingers turned white. Timidly, Hermione grabbed Harry's wrist, and pulled him with the group.

"See anyone?" he asked, glancing around.

Hermione shook her head, "Stop making it look noticable," she hissed. "Just act like nothing's wrong. Come on."

"This isn't-"

"I'm taking a short cut," Hermione told Harry.

Emma skipped merrily along and grabbed a stone from the stone fence of Mrs. Fasting's house. She was an old lady that always kept an alignment of stones around her garden fence. Hermione used them as portkeys.

Emma presented it to her sister, who brought the hand that was clutching Harry's to it, making sure both of their skin's touched it. In a flash they were gone.


	7. Chapter 7

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"Portkey," Hermione told him, brushing off her jeans as they had fallen in the garden of the Granger house. The garden fence provided some privacy so they weren't seen by the neighbors, and the trio made their way to the front door.

"You have an emergency portkey?" Harry asked her, confused still.

"Undetectable," Hermione nodded. "Only activated by my or Emma's touch." As soon as they entered the house, Hermione shut the door and locked it tightly. "Emma, honey, we can't leave the house anymore, okay? To ballet and back, that's all."

"But Mummy says-" Emma protested.

"I'll talk to Mum," Hermione told her. "Why don't you find Dad and have him read you his medical journals?"

"Okay!" Emma cried, excited. She rushed off.

"Medical journals?"

"She wants to be a doctor, like dad," Hermione told Harry, shrugging. "Come on. We're talking to my mum."

Harry swallowed hard, "Uh-"

"I'll protect you," Hermione joked, giggling at his slightly green expression.

"That's supposed to be my line," Harry teased.

"I was just prompting you," Hermione laughed. They entered the kitchen only a few monents later to see Mrs. Granger starting on lunch. A soup was bubbling on the stove and five plates on the counter had two slices of plain bread.

"You're back early," she commented, her gaze looking over the two teenagers.

"Mum, I'd really appreciate it if you only left the house when you need to," Hermione started. "There was someone at the park. Someone that isn't supposed to be there. You need to be careful."

Mum nodded, "Of course, dear. Are you two alright?"

Linda looked her daughter over as Hermione nodded and then moved onto Harry, "How about you, dear? You alright?"

"Great, Mrs. Granger," Harry nodded. "Far better than I've been."

"That's great to hear. Now, don't call me Mrs. Granger. That's my mother-in-law and heaven knows why I don't want to be called that," she laughed at that, causing Hermione to roll her eyes in embarrassment. "Call me Linda. Now, I'm making soup and sandwiches. Is that alright with you, dears?"

"Oh, that sounds perfect," Harry answered instantly.

"Are you allergic to anything?" Linda asked, glancing worriedly at the soup.

"No, ma'am," Harry answered politely.

"Tea and sandwiches are fine, mum," Hermione told her, a bit annoyed.

"If you're sure," Mum looked like she didn't believe her daughter. "Harry, if you need anything, dear, just ask."

"Will do, Mrs... uh, Linda," Harry answered.

Hermione's room was littered with her school books and she pushed them back into neat piles, blushing as Harry watched, "I was up mostly while you slept, looking for internal injury potions. Essence of Dittany is supposed to heal it, though. I just wanted to make sure-" Hermione let out an oof as a pile of books fell over on her feet. She shoved them back against the wall. She gathered the parchement off the bed, around where Harry was sitting, and rolled them into her trunk.

When she turned around, Harry was leaning against the headboard, space beside him for her.

"Do your parents know?" Harry asked.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "About what?"

Harry sighed, lifting his knees up and resting his elbows on them. "The Prophecy."

"My mum knows the jist of it," Hermione answered, joining him on the bed, only seated by his feet.

"What if he kills me, Hermione?" Harry asked quietly. "What if I can't beat him? What if he wins?"

"It's war," Hermione told him. "Nothing's for certain. It's possible he'll kill you, just as it's possible he'll be eaten by a gorilla."

Harry snorted, "I'm being serious."

"I know," Hermione sighed, "but I have no doubt in my mind that you can't beat him. You're not going to be alone in this, Harry."

Harry grabbed the Prophet off the desk beside the pink bed and opened it up. "Things have changed, Hermione. There are some people you can't trust."

"Like who?" Hermione asked, confused. As far as she knew, everyone she trusted were reliable people.

"Arthur Weasley, worker in the Department of Muggle Artifacts, has revealed himself to be Harry Potter's care-taker during the holidays, " Harry read aloud. "When asked by reporter Kendra Knickles, he was quoted as saying, 'Harry Potter does stay with me during the holidays, yes.'

"Kendra then asked, 'For how long has Harry stayed with you?'

"'Since his second year,' Arthur replied. 'He's best friends with my youngest son, Ron.'

"For years Harry Potter has been secretly living with the Weasley family. Molly Weasley, Arthur's wife, and a born Prewett, was asked if Potter was a respectible house guest, as Harry Potter was not at the residence for questions. She said, 'Harry is perfectly polite, but a bit impulsive and is very desperate for my attention. You can't really blame him, though. Having no mother figure in his life for nearly ten years before I met him, he has grown attached.'

Hermione's jaw dropped in shock. "Who's it written by?" Mrs. Weasley said that? That had to be a Skeeter article...

He flicked the paper up a little and read aloud, "Harrietta Jones."

"Keep reading," Hermione urged, leaning forward to listen to the rest of the article.

"There you have it. Harry Potter is an attention-grabber. Can the Ministry stunt that happened just a month ago be a scam to gain attention? Is You-Know-Who really back, or is it a publicity stunt to make the spot-light shine on him?

"Albus Dumbledore, Potter's Mentor, says that indeed Harry resides with the Weasley's and that when he turns seventeen, he will be marrying Ginny Weasley, the Weasley's youngest and only daughter. This is due to a marriage contract established between the two families - Potter and Weasley - since before the two lovebirds were even born." Harry's eyes widened in disbelief as he continued, "Sorry ladies, Harry Potter is off the market. Engaged and living with the girl, Harry Potter will live with the Weasley's for some time to come."

"What!?" Hermione shrieked, shooting forward and looking to see the print for herself. Indeed, what he was saying was true.

"You haven't read this?" Harry asked, looking at his girlfriend, "It's quite good writing."

"Honestly, Harry, they're trashing you in this," Hermione told him, outraged. "It's like they didn't think anyone would read it!"

"They know I wouldn't," Harry told her quietly, turning back to the page. "I don't have Hedwig and they don't know you get the post, especially after fourth year with the whole Skeeter thing."

"If Rita Skeeter didn't write this..."

"She wouldn't have," Harry told the bushy haired girl. "You have blackmail on her, and this person seems credible. Her other stories in here are on Ministry affairs and politics."

"Everyone's going to know where you go, Harry," Hermione said slowly.

"I think I gathered that, Hermione," Harry returned, reading a bit ahead as Hermione continued.

"No, everyone, Harry. Voldemort and his followers. They all know who you stay with. Who you associate with," Hermione murmured at the end. "Merlin, it's only a matter of time before they're attacked!"

"Did you know you're engaged to Ron?" Harry asked conversationally as he finished the article.

"I am? Who said that!?" Hermione grabbed the paper, scanning until she found her name. "Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's Muggleborn friend, lives with the Weasley's as well. Molly Weasley revealed that her youngest son, Ron, asked Hermione to marry him this summer. She said yes. The wedding is planned for next August, after the trio's sixth year. What? That's mental!"

"The article isn't even about me anymore," Harry told the girl. "They've gone from me being under the Weasley's care, to me being engaged, to Dumbledore paying for their tuition, to you being engaged. It's a mess."

"Harry, the people that read this, they're going to believe this or they won't. And if they believe this, they won't believe you. They won't think that you-know-who's back... They won't be cautious..."

Harry nodded and flipped to the other pages, taking the paper back. "Dumbledore's traveling. Moody's retired. Umbridge is now head of some department."

"No surprise. She sucks up to the Minister," Hermione muttered.

"Hermione?"

"Harry?" Hermione countered, noticing his mood change. Instead of being joking and poking fun at the paper, he know looked very serious, and slightly sad.

"This is becoming really real."

"I know," Hermione told him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"What are we going to do?"

"I'm working on it. While you were sleeping I found some books in my trunk." She flicked her wand, not wanting to move from Harry's side, and they gently floated into her lap. Hermione opened the first one to the bookmarked page. "Glamour charms." She opened another book. "Private quarters." Another book revealed, "Student Pregnancy at Hogwarts – Uncommon but possible."

"And?" Harry asked.

"The student is expelled," she told Harry. "I can't go back until next year. Or this term until break and then stay home afterwards."

"You can't give up school-"

"I have to, Harry," she told him quietly. "It's alright. If Ron and Ginny and Dumbledore are saying this stuff, encouraging this, then I don't want to go back. Perhaps it's cowardly, but there is so much more that's important right now, than this petty fighting they're encouraging."

"I'm not either then-" Harry started.

"You have to," Hermione interrupted him. "You can't stay here, my parents love you, but they can't do anything against Dumbledore. And Dumbledore wants you at Hogwarts. And you can't stay at the Dursley's, I'd rather chain you. You have to go to Hogwarts. I thought you wanted to be an Auror? And you can't just give Dumbledore reason for suspicion."

"But the Wealsey's-"

"You have the rest of the house for back-up. And-"

"No, the Weasley's will want me to come home with them for winter break. And summer break, Dumbledore still thinks I'm at the Dursley's."

"I know," Hermione told him. "I'm still working on that. You can stay at Hogwarts during winter break. And summer break... you could always say you're going to head to the Dursley's car, but they might follow if Dumbledore finds out. And I don't know... I can't think straight. A million things are going on at once. There are Death Eaters in my neighborhood, watching us. You nearly died last night. I'm going to be a whale. We're both engaged to people we didn't even know we were engaged to! And I have to figure out how to make this all work."

"Well I'm not marrying Ginny," Harry told her seriously. "I never will."

"And I'm not marrying Ron," Hermione responded. "Honestly, did they actually think we'd work? I can't stand to be around him half of the time."

"I never talk to Ginny," Harry shrugged. "Only two words about Quidditch."

"And not to mention she fawns over you when we're at the Burrow."

Harry snorted, "How can I forget?"

"Watch your drink, okay? I don't want you to be love potioned."

"I will," Harry promised, kissing his girlfriend's temple. "If you go back, you can't drink anything you don't check either."

"I won't."

At that moment, Emma launched herself on the bed, knocking all the books to the floor. "Mia! Mia! Guess what?"

"What, Emma?" I laughed at her enthusiasm.

She bounced up and down excitedly and Harry chuckled. "Mum and Dad are going to a convention and we get to be alone all week next week! We can watch movies and eat pizza and eat those Chocolate Frogs that you hide from Mum!"

Hermione laughed, pulling her down until she was sprawled over both Harry and herself. "You are not supposed to say anything! Now Mum's going to find out!"

She giggled, "Mum already knows, Mia. She told me we could."

Hermione bit her lip worriedly. Would they be safe being on vacation, or as they call it, a convention? How in the world did Mum convince Dad of this? And next week? I suppose it was Mum's birthday, so that's why they were going.

"Well if Mum says okay," Hermione smiled, ruffling the little girl's unruly hair. Really, she couldn't show Emma how worried she was, because if Emma felt upset, she was very frightful.

She giggled and looked at Harry, "So Mia told me about you."

"Did she?" Harry asked, giving the little girl his full attention.

"She said you were really cool and really nice," Emma started. "You also saved her a lot of times. When she reads me bedtime stories, she calls you Silver Knight."

Hermione flushed as Harry glanced at his girlfriend, "The Silver Knight? I can add that to my many names."

"Shut up," Hermione muttered.

"Is Hermione the most beautiful princess in those stories?" Harry asked the sister.

"No," Emma admitted. "Mia doesn't like to add herself in the stories."

"Why don't you tell us a story, Hermione?" Harry asked, giving Hermione a big smirk.

"Oh, no," Hermione insisted. "You can sit in when I tell Emma her story for her nap, but not now."

"Who else are in the stories, Emma?" Harry asked.

"Well there's the evil witch Bellatrix. Mia said she's crazy. And the evil king Mort." Harry snorted in laughter. "And there's the knight, Sir Harry. And the Princess Emmaline, that's the evil king's daughter, but she's very nice. And then there's sometimes the maid of the princess, Mya. But Mia leaves her out a lot."

"That's all?" Harry asked.

"No! There's loads more! Like the joker, Dobby, and the begger Ron."

Harry snorted, "You made Ron a beggar?"

"Well she wanted a beggar and it was the first name to pop up," Hermione said defensively, but giggled a bit at the way it sounded.

"And there's the flower girl, Luna. She's weird, but really nice," Emma told him eagerly. "And there's Sir Harry's brother, Neville."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Is that all?"

"I think so," Emma muttered, thinking. Her face scrunched up and she nodded. "Yeah, that's all."

"Wow, that's a lot of people, Hermione."

"It's easier to remember, since they're talked about every day," Hermione defended, glancing at Harry.

"So, what do you like you do, Harry?" Emma asked suddenly, not giving Harry a chance to reply to Hermione.

Harry shrugged, pulling her further onto his lap so that her bony butt wasn't digging into Hermione's thigh. "I love flying my broom," he told her. "Maybe I'll take you flying one day?"

"I don't like heights," she muttered, turning pink.

"Neither does Hermione," Harry told her quietly. "But I think she likes flying."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry laughed and Emma giggled.

"What else?" Emma asked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

"I like to play chess, but I'm not very good," Harry answered. "And I guess I like to wander around the castle. It calms me down."

"That and tearing apart your dormitory," Hermione muttered to herself. Harry rolled his eyes, having heard the witch.

"Don't you like to draw? Or color? Or read?" Emma asked, shocked.

"I do like to watch movies," Harry told her. "And listen to music, though the wizarding world doesn't really have a lot of good music."

"What's your favorite song?" Emma asked.

Harry paused, thinking, "Have you ever heard of the movie Mulan?"

Emma nodded, "It's one of my favorites!"

"Do you know that part where they're heading into battle?" Harry asked. "And they're singing A Girl Worth Fighting For?"

Emma nodded, "Yes!"

"That's my favorite song, because I have a girl worth fighting for."

Hermione couldn't stop the smile that tainted her lips and Harry sent his girlfriend a wink as Emma started to talk excitedly about the movie. "We should watch it tonight! Can we Mia?"

"You have to ask Mum and Dad," Hermione told her quietly, laughing. "But I don't mind."

"Oh, Yay!" She cried. "I'll get the movie! We can watch it after lunch!"

Hermione giggled as she hopped off of Harry's lap and flew out the door. "So full of energy."

Harry snorted, "Aren't all little kids?"

"Touche. Come on, lunch should be done."

Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him from the bed. Sure enough, as soon as they reached the bottom of the steps, Hermione's mother called, "Lunch!"

Hermione grinned at Harry in triumph and pulled him into the kitchen where Linda propmtly handed the both of them plates. "I expect you can keep yourself entertained for the day? I have a few appointments this afternoon. Hermione, your dad and I are going to a convention-"

"Mum, if you're going to France for the week, I think you can tell me." Mum blushed and diverted her eyes to look at Harry.

"Harry, dear, I hope you'll be alright here with Hermione and Emma for the week. But, you see, it's Richard and I's fifteenth anniversary, and my birthday, and we're getting out of the country for a little while. We'll be back next Saturday, Hermione. And we should be back around noon. And no parties-"

"No boys, use protection," Hermione recited, flushing a bit.

"Although I'll let the last two slide," her mother winked, "Just make sure Emma doesn't say anything to your father."

Hermione flushed a crimson color that rivaled the Weasley's hair color. "Mum!"

Harry was bright red and refused to look at the mum. Hermione didn't blame him.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione dragged Harry to the dining room for dinner, where Emma was happily eating beside her father. Hermione took the seat closest to her father and forced Harry to sit closer to her mum's chair. Her mum arrived a moment later and sat.

"So, Harry," Richard started. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen in July, sir," Harry answered politely, cutting up the steak on his plate slowly.

"Are you a year below Hermione, then?" Dad asked, curious.

"No, sir," he answered. "I was just born a day before the cut off for the new year."

"And how are your grades in school?" Linda asked, curiously. After all, Hermione was top of her class. Hermione knew she expected that Harry wasn't a complete dolt in Hogwarts.

"E's mostly, except for Defense. I have an O," Harry told her after swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

Her father looked to his daughter for an explanation. "Harry's amazingly gifted at Defense Against the Dark Arts class," Hermione explained to him. "His other classes, he's doing really well in. Third of the class."

"And who does better?" her father asked, glancing at Harry, raising an eyebrow.

"Hermione, naturally, is the top of her class. And then Malfoy is second."

"But Draco buys his grades," Hermione added to Harry's point.

"And do you work, Harry?" Dad asked.

"No, sir," Harry answered. "But I do want to be an Auror."

"Auror?" her mother asked.

"A dark wizard catcher," Harry answered. "It's like the police, I think would be the Muggle equivalent."

"You enjoy catching bad men?" Dad asked.

"It's my job," Harry answered, shrugging. "Figuratively speaking, of course. And I want the world to be safe for everyone to live in, so an Auror would be the best I can do."

"He's being modest," Hermione insisted. "If Harry wanted, he could be the Minister of Magic."

"And do you play any sports, then?" her mother asked.

"I play Quidditch," Harry answered. "I never really had a chance to play Muggle sports."

"What Muggle sports do you like?"

"Football and cricket are brilliant!" Harry answered. "I don't follow it very much, but when it is on at my Aunt and Uncle's house, I can sometimes sneak a peek."

Hermione's mother frowned, as did Hermione, at his word choice.

"Sneak a peek?" her father asked.

Hermione winced, noticing Harry tense. Hermione opened her mouth, to tell her dad to leave it be, but Harry answered, "I wasn't allowed to watch television, sir," Harry answered.

"I see," Dad said slowly. "What are you intentions with my daughter?"

"Dad!" Hermione choked, stopping herself from swallowing a bite of steak whole. She drank from her glass of water to get the piece down.

"I want to make her happy," Harry answered smoothly. "I hope that she can be happy with me. And I will protect her until the world ends, even if I get hurt in the process. She's more precious to me than anyone else in the world and I hope to never screw it up."

"Do you love my daughter?" Dad asked.

"Richard!" mum scolded. Hermione suppressed a snort when her father muttered under his breath about fools out for Hermione's virtues. "Don't answer him, dear. You'll feel what you will in your own time."

"How many girlfriends have you had, Harry?" her dad asked, instead.

"Just your daughter, sir," Harry answered.

Her father nodded slowly, "Good. Then I trust you here with her for the week next week. If she calls me and says you've acted out of line, I will not hesitate to kick you out, do you understand, boy?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered immediately. "I'd never, ever hurt Hermione on purpose."

"Good. And I don't want my little girl knocked up, you got that? I'll break your legs."

Harry nodded immediately, "I-I understand, sir."

Her mother suppressed a smile, not very successfully, and Hermione flushed. Her father would honestly throw a fit.

"Good. Now you seem like an honourable boy," Dad told him. "Don't screw it up."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir," Harry answered.

"Daddy," Emma said innocently. "I like Harry. Can I marry him?"

Hermione started to giggle, unable to hold it back. Emma was honestly so sweet. She gave her father a big hopeful smile, and Richard shook his head, "You absolutely cannot! Linda!"

"What?" Linda asked innocently. "Dear, she's four."

Richard grumbled again and Harry gave Emma a small smile while she gave him a large one. Hermione rolled her eyes, "Honestly, you guys. Leave Harry alone."

"Hermione, when do you get your results for your OWLs?" Hermione's mother changed the subject.

Hermione seemed surprised with this topic, but shrugged, "I suspect next month, actually. Fred and George got theirs in July."

"Fred and George?" Richard asked.

"The twins that came to collect me last summer," Hermione explained, turning a bit red in the cheeks. "They, uh, set the carpet on fire."

"Oh, yes, them," Richard's curious mood instantly soured.

"They were very sorry," Hermione spoke. "They fixed the carpet!"

Richard's mood didn't improve at all. Emma pulled the love birds into the living room, Harry after he helped Linda with the dishes. Hermione tried to calm her sister down, but Emma couldn't be stopped. She put Mulan in the DVD player. Oh dear Merlin...

"You've created a monster," Hermione accoused as Harry rejoined them. Richard was sitting in the armchair, the evening paper displayed in front of him. As Emma sat between the two lovebirds, it didn't stop Harry from putting his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. Linda joined them a second later and sat beside Hermione.

"Well, I intend not to," Harry told her quietly, the movie playing loudly to drown out what he was saying to the parents, "but, well, if that's what you think our baby's going to be..." Harry trailed off as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't you dare put words in my mouth, Mr. Potter. Come on."

Emma turned off the lights, pulling the curtains shut to the windows as the setting sun shined in all of their eyes, and then went back to her place between Harry and Hermione. Movie Time.

Emma giggled freely at funny parts, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh at some. Emma watched intently, though, completely captivated. Harry not too far behind.

"Oh, it's your favorite song, Harry!" she cried suddenly. Richard raised an eyebrow, glancing at the trio and then his wife. He shook his head and returned to his paper, squinting in the dim light to read the words.

Harry chuckled and nodded, leaning his head on Hermione's own as he watched. Hermione's own head rested on his shoulder. Emma's ended up laying across the laps of the sofa's occupants during the song.

"What do I have?" Harry muttered into Hermione's hair. Hermione was confused by his question and turned to look up at him, about to ask him what he meant. "A girl worth fighting for," Harry chuckled. Hermione met his green eyes and he sent her a smile.

"I-"

"Will you two be quiet, please?" Emma interrupted. "I'm trying to watch this!"

"Sorry," Harry told her quietly and there was a quiet chuckle from Richard, but the love birds settled to watch the rest. When the movie was over, Emma flew to put in the second one. That is when Linda rose.

"I don't think I can survive another," Linda sighed. "Goodnight, Hermione, Harry. If you need anything don't be afraid to ask! Richard, come on-"

"I'm in the middle of this dear," Richard insisted, flipping through another page of the paper.

"It'll be there in the morning," Linda scolded. "Now, Richard."

The Granger father sighed and rose, folding up the paper but giving the teens a look. "Keep in line. And make sure you go to bed seperately."

They were gone in a few more moments and Mulan II began to roll. Hermione knew that Emma would be out in an hour, as she could never stay awake when she watched two movies at the samet ime.

True enough, she was out before even half the movie was over. When the credits rolled, Hermione shifted slightly and Emma let out a breath in her sleep. Hermione froze and glanced at Harry. He chuckled silently and slipped his hands under Emma's legs, lifting her up as he stood himself. He rested her body against his chest. Hermione bit her lip to keep the smile from showing up on her face. He was so fatherly.

"Where's her room?" he whispered.

Hermione beckoned him to follow her, and silently led, her socked feet padding on the hardwood. As Hermione guided him up the stairs to her room, she stopped in between the guest room and her own. Hermione pulled the covers of her small bed down and Harry gently set her down.

Emma stirred, and Harry turned to stand, but froze.

"What is it?" Hermione whispered, pausing from pulling the blankets over her sister.

Harry glanced at Hermione, unsure of what to do. Hermione glanced at his shirt and saw Emma's hands clinging to it.

"You can either take off the sweatshirt," Hermione told him. "Or wait until she lets go."

Harry hesitated. He had no shirt on underneath the sweatshirt, so he'd be cold until he got his shirt back on, as Hermione's parents kept the house at sixty Fahrenheit all year round. And if he waited, he'd surly be unable to get to his own bed if she never let go. And Hermione wanted him to get as much sleep as possible.

"Er..."

Hermione solved the dilemma for him and pulled his arms from the sleeves of the sweatshirt. Hermione then pulled it over his head. Harry shifted, freed, shirtless as he stood.

"Come on, Dad would freak if he saw you like that," Hermione giggled quietly.

Hermione peeked out of the small bedroom into the hall, seeing her parent's bedroom door shut. She quietly walked to the guest room, where some of her father's old clothing was hanging in the wardrobe.

"I know it's not..." Hermione glanced at the white walls and the gray bedding, "Homey. But well, my mum tried to get you to stay in my room."

He raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Well, I'd take this room," Hermione told him, laughing as he slid on his shirt. The bruises were healing nicely, she noted. You could barely see the burn marks on his back anymore, though the scars would remain. She diverted her eyes from them, feeling the pain that he had felt when he had recieved them. It was excruciating to even think he was being hurt.

"You never answered me from the park," he said as he sat down on the bed. I sat beside him quietly, my fingers folded on my lap.

"Dreading?" Hermione asked. He nodded. "I don't know. That's what I'm dreading. I don't know anything. Will I be okay as a Mum? Will I be able to take care of it? What if I hurt 'em? What if I never see you again because Dumbledore spouts some more lies?"

"First of all, Dumbledore can't sway my decision," Harry said quietly. "I do really like you," Harry's arms hugged me to him and Hermione buried her face into Harry's chest. "And I won't ever leave you."

Hermione smiled softly against his chest. "Even when I get mood swings and scream how I hate you and wish we never met?"

He chuckled, "Even then. Though, I'd have to say, I am going to hate rushing to get you whatever you're craving."

Hermione laughed, breaking out of his embrace to lie back on the bed. Only, Hermione was right back in it again as he sank down next to her and pulled her next to him. "I'm sorry about Mum. She's embarrassing, but she- oh, Godric, she's just embarrassing."

"I love your mum!" Harry insisted. "Actually, I think it's kind of sweet of her to try to get you to blush all the time. She and I must think alike, because the more you blush, the more beautiful you are. She must agree."

Hermione snorted, "Don't lie, Harry. My mum just likes to embarrass me."

Harry chuckled, "Don't all mothers?" He paused a moment, "Let's hope this little one has your temper. You can tame a dragon if it insisted you stole a scale. I've never seen a more patient woman."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Have you met Luna?"

Harry and Hermione locked eyes for a straight five seconds before they blew up in quiet laughter. Hermione didn't realize she was giggling so hard until she was practically leaning on Harry. When their giggles supsided, he was just inches from her face. Their breath came out in slow gasps and their eyes flickered. Have Harry's eyes always had flecks of gold in them?

"I-" Harry whispered.

Just as he leaned in, Hermione's mother's heels started to click down the hallway. Harry hastilly retreated, and turned a little pink in the face. Hermione sighed and stood, "So, the bathroom is just down the hall, the first door beside the stairs," Hermione finished like she was giving him a tour of the house. She stood in the open bedroom door a second later. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Night, Hermione," Harry returned.

Hermione smiled slightly and turned to close the door, spotting her mother leaning against the door to Hermione's room. As Hermione passed her, her mother followed.

"So...?" Hermione's mother pressed.

"What?" Hermione asked. "I'm really tired, Mum. It's been a really long day... I couldn't sleep last night and someone's out there watching us."

Linda sat on her daughter's bed as she changed, "I know... don't stress out too much, Hermione. It's not good for you... Harry's a good kid. You know your father is just being tough on him until Harry cracks."

"I know, but Harry really doesn't need it," Hermione spoke, shaking her head. "He's not a bad person, Mum. Can dad lay off him?"

"I'll talk to him," Linda agreed. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Mum," Hermione waited until she was gone before changing the sheets on her bed - as she had meant to do that this morning but had gotten preoccupied. She then slid under the covers and slept - as peacefully as one could when they saw their boyfriend near death.


	9. Chapter 9

A shaking sensation woke Hermione up that night. At first, she thought of earthquakes, but realized England hardly ever had earthquakes. She shook her head, burying it further into the pillow. She really needed to stop watching those Hollywood films.

But the shaking didn't cease. And it was also saying something. Hermione's reflexes took over and she shot up, only to meet the brown eyes of her sister, Emma.

"I had a nightmare," Emma murmured quietly.

Hermione sighed, lowering her wand. Her sister was hardly a threat. "Do you want me to make some tea?"

"No," Emma sniffled and used the raggidy blanket she was carrying with her to wipe her eyes. It snagged on the floorboards, causing Emma to tug it and hug the blanket close to her. "Can we sleep with Harry?"

Hermione frowned, "Why do you want to sleep with Harry?"

"He makes me feel safe," Emma said quietly, her cheeks turning a bright red. "Please? My nightmares... I don't like them."

"Alright, but you are going to have to tell mum and dad if they catch us out of bed, alright?"

She nodded, a bright smile lighting up her face, despite the tears that were still in her eyes, "Thank you, Mia!"

She gripped Hermione's hand and Hermione grabbed her comforter before following her sister into the cool hallway. They walked quietly down two doors before Hermione slowly twisted the guest room door open. Emma peeked through first.

"He's asleep."

Hermione knew that was the case, as it was well past midnight. "Then be really quiet, alright?"

Emma nodded and tiptoed into the room. Hermione pushed the door open and watched the sight before her. Harry Potter was under the gray covers, but was shaking. It seemed he was having a nightmare too.

Hermione stepped forward as Emma stood at the foot of the bed.

"Harry?" Hermione said quietly. "Harry, you're having a nightmare..."

Harry was murmuring something, but Hermione couldn't tell what. That is, until she stepped closer. "Harry?"

"Sirius... no," Harry breathed, his face creasing into a frown. Hermione's hand gently touched Harry's shoulder and the boy's eyes flew open. The green orbs were unfocused, but watched Hermione a moment, his body tense. "Hermione?"

"Emma had a nightmare," Hermione felt the need to explain. "She wants to sleep in here with you."

The little girl stood beside Hermione, "Is that alright?" she asked, clutching the blanket tightly around her.

Harry reached for his glasses and pulled them on, sitting up. "Why me?"

"Because you're the knight, silly!" Emma giggled. "And you'll protect us from the evil king."

Harry grew confused a moment, before smiling, "Alright, as long as you promise to sleep."

"I promise," Emma yawned. She crawled onto the bed and next to Harry. After Emma situated herself under the covers, she rested a stuffed bunny rabbit beside her. Hermione knew it was her favorite animal and she had it since birth. Emma never slept without it. Tucking her special blanket around the bunny, she looked at Hermione expectantly. "Are you going to get in too, Mia? Why are you still standing there?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and Hermione blushed, "Um, I was going to go back to my room, actually. Dad wouldn't like Harry and I in the same bed together..."

"But Daddy's sleeping," Emma insisted. "And I can't sleep if I think the evil king is going to get you too! You can tell Harry and I a story!"

Hermione hesitated, and Harry decided to speak, "Your dad wouldn't like this very much, Emma..."

Emma's tears returned and she gave them a pouty face, "But... but I can't sleep without you, Mia!"

Hermione felt her walls start to crumble and sighed, "Alright, but you're in the middle, Emma. If Dad comes in here, we don't want him to kick Harry out, do we?"

Harry chuckled, "Your dad really doesn't like me."

As Emma settled in the middle of the queen sized bed, Hermione sighed as she sat on the other end. "He'll come around, hopefully. Mum loves you, Harry... Dad's just trying to make you crack..."

Harry didn't seem convinced, but layed back down, his glasses going back on the bedside table. Emma closed her eyes. "Any minute now, Mia."

Hermione giggled and turned on her side to face her sister, "Sorry... How would you like me to start?"

"Like how you usually do, silly."

Hermione nodded and glanced at Harry, who was watching the both of them, enraptured. "Once upon a time, there was a very beautiful princess that lived in the far off castle. Dragons and fiery pits of lava surrounded it, so the princess could never leave. The princess was always so kind, and watched every day as the village around her went on with its life... The princess's father, King Thomas-" Harry snorted, and I shot him a glare, "was very mean... The people didn't like him, and he didn't like them, in return."

"What's the princess's name?" Emma whispered, yawning.

"I'm getting there," Hermione giggled, nudging her tired sister affectionately. "There was a knight of the dark forest, who had heard of the beautiful princess. He vowed to rescue her. He rode for eleven days, and eleven nights, to the village," Hermione's voice was soft, and she gave a small smile. Knight Harry was handsome, tall, and when he arrived at the village, he was greeted like an old friend, even though he knew no one there. He asked around the village, until he came across a poor, old man begging for food and water.

"Knight Harry," Hermione continued, "stopped before the beggar and asked about the princess. In exchange for any information, the knight promised food and water.

"Beggar Ron, eager for this gift, told him what he could, 'The princess in those towers is born from a hideous beast. Do not rescue her, for the evil king will destroy you.' But the knight did not heed the warning. Knight Harry thanked the beggar and gave everything he promised, though the information did not help him. Knight Harry continued until he reached a tavern where he stayed the night."

Emma's eyes fluttered shut, but Hermione continued until the story was over. Emma always woke up if she didn't finish. "Princess Emmaline had heard of the knight coming for her from the wind, and during breakfast that morning, watched out her window in hopes that he'd come for her, and see him on his ascent up to the castle.

"She was not disappointed. Her maid, Mia, arrived and warned the princess that her father had heard of the knight as well. Knight Harry charged across the village, fighting for entry to the castle. He unsheathed his sword and horse and rider charged across the dropped moat bridge. As Knight Harry reached the gates, he slashed through the lock and gained entry.

"From there," Hermione had to hide her smile as Harry raised an eyebrow at her in surprise, "Knight Harry got off of his horse and charged through the castle, trying to find the princess. Princess Emmaline left her rooms, desperate to meet him in the halls so they could leave.

"But the dragon appeared. Draco was fierce and a very good fighter," Hermione murmured. "He had burned other people trying to rescue the princess to fried chicken pieces, and intended to do the same to Knight Harry. Knight Harry swung his sword and the dragon let out an almighty roar before falling onto the castle foyer's floor. Outraged, King Thomas and his wife, Queen Bellatrix, were determined to end the knight's life themselves. The battle was close, but the Knight managed to knock out both the King and the Queen, before finding the princess.

"They escaped," Hermione finished quietly, "and they lived happily ever after."

Harry smiled as Emma let out a small snore and Hermione blushed.

"That was a great story."

"It was the shortened version," Hermione told him. "It's usually a lot more... detailed, I guess."

"So in your story I marry your sister," he said slowly, then chuckled. "Is that why she asked if I'd marry her at dinner?"

"Possibly," Hermione giggled.

Harry sighed, "I've been thinking..."

"You tend to do that from time to time," Hermione input.

Harry rolled his eyes, but squinted at Hermione to see her more clearly. "I... I wanted to thank you... for fixing me up when I got here..."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Harry, you don't have to thank me. I would have fixed up Draco Malfoy had he come slithering here too."

Harry grimaced, "Not the visual I needed. That slimey snake is -"

Hermione giggled, cutting him off, "Harry, what else were you going to say?"

"If the wizarding world doesn't believe me when I say he's back..." Harry trailed off.

"Then what's your purpose?" Hermione finished.

He nodded, "I wouldn't have one anymore, would I? I was just getting used to the Boy-Who-Lived thing, but now I'm the Boy-Who-Lied and that's not going to go down too well. . . The DA wouldn't listen to me... They hardly did fifth year."

"Harry, you have far more purpose than just defeating him," Hermione insisted gently. "You show them hope... You survived him... You brought the Dark Lord down when you were just a baby... You can bring him down now... You need more confidence in yourself, Harry, honestly. If anything, you can show the people that you lived, you survived, in the hardest of times, and when things start to get hard again, you'll be there to guide them..."

"I don't want to guide them, Hermione. I just want to kill the guy and get it over with."

"You're not ready yet," Hermione whispered. "I'm not ready for that to happen yet."

Harry's eyes met with hers, "I promise you'll I'll try my best to come back alive."

Hermione looked away from him, towards her sleeping sister, "I know... I will worry, no matter what. If you go off to kill him one day... what if you don't return? Or what if he returns, but you don't? What would happen? To us? To my family, to our friends..."

"You'd go on and help bring him down yourselves," Harry insisted. "And if I brought him down, but died in the process... that's okay. But I will fight to get back to you with everything I have in me. Know that."

"Don't come back a ghost, Harry," Hermione said before she could stop the words from leaving. There was an edge of hysteria to her whisper, but Harry had detected it easily.

"I won't," he insisted. "Personally, I'd like to be able to not walk through walls. Privacy and all that. But, it would be kind of cool to see the forbidden corridors in schools."

Hermione shook her head, "Please... You have to come back to me as you are... Living... I have to hear your heartbeat and I have to run my fingers through your hair... if I can't... Harry, I don't know what I'll do."

"You'll move on," Harry insisted. "You'll fall for some famous historian bloke and you'll get married... I may haunt him, though..."

Hermione giggled, despite the situation, "I would miss you too much to move on."

Harry was quiet and Hermione almost thought he had fallen asleep, had his eyes been closed. But they were staring straight at her... "I would miss you too much to get myself killed."

"You don't fear death."

"I didn't," Harry admitted. "Until I had you."

Hermione blushed, glancing back at her sister. "If I'm not there, I think I'd want you to move on, too, though... You and I both know that the Dark Lord could find me easily. It's the only magically warded house in this area... For at least five miles. I stick out like a sore thumb. And I'm a Mudblood, so-"

"Don't call yourself that name," Harry interrupted, his body tense. "Don't do that. Just because Malfoy calls you that doesn't mean it's true. You have very beautiful blood... More beautiful than any of the purebloods out there... No offense to Neville, that is. And your family has good blood. Well, I mean, they're good people, so of course they have good blood. It doesn't matter if you're Muggle or-"

"Harry," Hermione giggled. "You're rambling..."

"Right, sorry..."

Hermione sighed, "I just meant, they hunt my kind for sport. If they catch me, they catch me and that's it. There is no buts... there is no or. They catch me and I'm gone."

"That's not going to happen," Harry insisted.

"And this marriage contract between you and Ginny?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Since before you were born... that's ludicrous!"

"Well, my parents had to have agreed to it... Which I don't see how they could..."

"Why would they have you marry Ginny?" Hermione whispered. "It makes no sense."

"An arranged marriage..."

Hermione's eyes widened, "Money!"

"What?"

"The arranged marriage is so that they get money, Harry," Hermione whispered. "Your money in your vault."

"But I've got millions... if they want it, they can have some. I don't have to marry Ginny for that..."

Hermione paused, "But they'd never accept money from you... Remember? Fred and George wouldn't take the money from the Tournament, but when you said it was an endorsement for their business, they agreed."

"But Fred and George just didn't want to take it," Harry insisted. "That's different. Ron and Ginny would always want us to buy them expensive things before, remember?"

Hermione did remember. Whenever she had bought a book for Ron one year for Christmas, he thought it was mistakenly assigned to him, and not her. She had been angry at him for weeks. "Well, okay, perhaps that's a bad example, then. But I mean, think about it, Harry. If you marry Ginny, and if you got divorced down the line, you'd have to give half of everything you have to her. Half of everything... but what do you have that they want?"

"I haven't got much. Just my vault."

Hermione bit her lip, thinking. "Nothing that you know of from your parents wills? Or the Dursely's wills?"

He was quiet, "What about Sirius's will?"

Hermione nodded, "Yeah... what about his will? Did Sirius say he left you anything?"

He shook his head, "As far as I know, Sirius didn't even have a will."

Hermione sighed, "The mystery just gets more mysterious... I don't know, Harry... Why would they want half of everything you have."

"Unless... I died," Harry said quietly. "That paper in your room, it said I was marrying her next year... that's before my seventh year... Why would I marry her then...?"

"And I Ron," Hermione agreed.

"Unless I didn't survive Vold-"

"Don't say his name," Hermione said suddenly, more loudly than she should have. She gave her sister a worried look. "I don't want my sister to hear it."

Harry nodded, "You-know-who, then. If I didn't survive, she'd get everything."

"And maybe that's what they want in the beginning..." Hermione murmured.

"Is there any way to void a marriage contract?"

Hermione thought about it, "I haven't read much on them... They're mostly used with families like the Malfoy's and such... Why would your family agree to that, is the real question... But what I have read - it was in Hogwarts; A History, you see - the contract can be null if one or both parties objects and is engaged to another, or if one or both parties are in another relationship that is consumated and proof is at the ready."

"Oh," Harry blushed.

Hermione blushed as well, "Yes..."

"Well, I mean, that's kind of easy, isn't it?" Harry said. "To like get out of those contracts."

"There's more technical stuff," Hermione informed him. "But it's about the same thing. Like, the length of your relationship, if you had the relationship just to get out of the contract, et cetera."

He nodded, his eyes drifting to the ceiling as he turned on his back. "I see... Well, that's not the case, is it?"

"I sure hope not," Hermione gave a small laugh.

"You should sleep... you look like You-know-who showed up in the shower."

"Not the visual I needed, Harry," Hermione giggled, turning on her back as well. She shut her eyes, "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

As the trio slept, Linda and Richard Granger did not. They were sitting awake, their eyes wide in disbelief, from outside of Harry's bedroom. Of course, they had awoken to Emma's fitfull nightmare about an hour ago, and when the trio had stayed in the doors of the guest room, they had leaned against the door and eavesdropped.

"Did you know of the war?"

Linda nodded to her husband, "Yes... Bits... I didn't know how bad... Hermione never made it out to be this bad."

"And the boy may die..."

"He's famous in their world for surviving death once," Linda murmured. "We can only hope he does that again, for Hermione and Emma's sakes."

Richard nodded, but his attitude towards the boy had changed. He really, really had so many issues to deal with, that Richard knew laying into him would only make the boy more stressed out. "Emma really has grown attached to him."

"Wherever that boy goes, he's going to be great father material, Richard," Linda threw in slyly.

Richard grumbled, "Not with Hermione he's not..."

Linda smirked, "Yet."


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione Jean Granger woke to the sound of a click. At first, she thought it was the light switch, as a bright flash of light shot across the room. But when the room was doused in darkness once more, she wasn't convinced.

"Aren't they adorable?"

It was then that Hermione Granger became aware of the position her sister, Harry, and herself were in. Harry was still on his back, but Emma was sprawled on top of him, her bunny gripped in her arms and her thumb shoved in her mouth. Hermione could tell this because she peaked through an eye to see the scene. She, herself, was pressed Emma, probably crushing the poor girl. An arm was wrapped around Emma protectively and Hermione recognized it as Harry's. His other arm was above his head.

Hermione's leg was tangled in the sheets and so when she tried to sit up, it woke Harry as well.

"Mum!" Hermione groaned.

Linda Granger was standing in the doorway with a polaroid in her hands, and waving a picture she had obviously just taken.

"Shush, dear, you'll wake your sister. Now, would you like some breakfast?" Linda grinned.

Hermione managed to untangle her feet from the sheets and slowly slid out of bed, helping Harry get Emma of of him. "Breakfast would be great, Mum," Hermione nodded.

"Do you need any help?" Harry asked, finally free, and slipping his glasses on.

"Oh, no, dear, I'll do just fine on my own," Linda insisted.

Hermione glanced at her mother, and squinted as the sunlight hit her eyes. "Dad... why are you hiding behind mum?"

Her father was, indeed, hidden behind her mother, watching them with a scowl on his face.

"Nothing... nothing... Just tying my shoe."

"You aren't wearing shoes," Hermione pointed out, glancing at his socked feet.

"Right, well, I'm off to work, Linda. Be good, you three," her father said abruptly, darting down the hall. Hermione rolled her eyes and advanced on her mother, with every intent of taking the picture away from her and burning it.

"Mum-" she started to protest as her mother snatched it away.

"No, it's too cute to be thrown in the rubbish bin. Now, be downstairs in a half hour."

As her mother headed to the kitchen, Hermione watched her glance at the photo and smirk. Yes, Hermione decided that she needed to get that photo back. It probably looked horrible.

"You're, uh... hair," Harry started, and Hermione turned to him, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I know it looks like a bird nest, Harry," Hermione returned.

He held up his hands in a defensive gesture, "I was going to say that it looked nice!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Right."

"Hey, I was! Now, can I, uh... take a shower?" Harry asked, uncertain.

Hermione nodded, "Two doors down, by the stairs."

He gave her a smile, "Great, thanks."

Hermione just nodded and headed for her room, grabbing some clothes and heading into her shower too.

Hermione's hair did not look nice. Far from it. It looked as though a flock of birds had been living in it overnight, with a few hawks as well. It took her five minutes just to brush the mess out before she slipped into the shower. Honestly, did her hair have to be so bushy?

She sometimes wished it'd stay silky like it had been at the Yule Ball. Maybe the twins will invent some product like that - not that she supported their pranking.

Breakfast was quiet, Emma still sleeping. Linda made the couple chocolate chip pancakes and a side of eggs. The teens about devoured them in three minutes.

"If you're that hungry, I can make more," Linda offered.

Harry shook his head, blushing slightly, "Sorry, but I'm fine, really."

Linda raised an eyebrow, but nodded, "Alright then."

"Come on, let's finish homework," Hermione insisted.

"You already finished."

"But you haven't," Hermione pointed out.

"No... I haven't," Harry agreed.

"See you in a bit, Mum," Hermione said as they departed ways. Hermione led Harry to her bedroom and played around with the things in her drawer until she withdrew Harry's homework from the day before. "Potions?"

Harry Potter groaned, but nodded, "How long is it?"

"Wand length."

"But other people have smaller wands than I do!" Harry insisted. "How is that fair?"

Hermione laughed, "Just write, Harry."

He took the book she offered him and started to write while Hermione went to her window, glancing out of it in curiosity. Her owl should have brought the morning Prophet - as yesterday was Sunday, there was no post.

Just as Hermione turned away, a pecking sounded at the window and Hermione smiled, opening it.

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, untying the paper and then dropping a few coins in the pouch. She unfolded the paper, sitting across from Harry as she unfolded it. "The Minister is backing up your claim, saying that you-know-who is indeed back. That's good news, I suppose."

"Until people think they are only saying it for the press too."

Hermione grimaced but continued, "Viktor Krum has a girlfriend."

"Heartbroken?"

"Hardly," Hermione snorted. "And it's a Bulgarian girl. She's a Quidittch player."

"Of course."

Hermione flipped the page, her jaw dropping, "Harry!"

"What?" he looked up from his parchment and saw Hermione's ashen face. "Hermione, what is it?"

Hermione dropped the paper, turning it around to face him so he could read the words. "There's been an attack... in Dorset... Cho Chang's family is gone."

"Cho as well?"

Hermione shook her head as Harry leaned forward, reading the article, "No, she was in Wales visiting a few friends. Merlin, she must feel horrible.. First Cedric and now her family..."

"Merlin, she's going to be a mess, isn't she?" Harry murmured. "Last night..."

Hermione shook her head, "Do they what attacked?"

"The Dark Mark was over it."

Hermione nodded, closing her eyes. "They were Muggleborns... Cho warded her house last year when she turned seventeen."

Harry glanced up at her, "That's not going to happen here."

Hermione didn't agree, but she also didn't say anything. She stared at the picture of the Dark Mark, knowing that it was only a matter of time before they came for her, too. Afterall, Cho was Harry's ex-girlfriend, of sorts. They never really went on an official date - as he had left her in tears after she asked about Cedric... at least that was what Harry had told her. And Hermione was always around Harry, and if anyone read the papers in her fourth year, they would assume she was his ex as well.

They could be knocking on her door any moment.

After Harry read the article, he leaned back against Hermione's headboard, shaking his head. "Her mother, father, and sister."

She downcast her eyes, "Her mother worked for the Ministry, didn't she?"

"But you know that's not why they attacked her."

"Harry-"

"Stupid Prophet is twisting my private life," he muttered. "Who's next? Luna? Neville? The Weasley's?"

Hermione swallowed, "You know it's not-"

"You?" Harry asked. "Hermione... if you get hurt because of me-"

"When are you going to get it through your thick head that we're in this together?" Hermione interrupted, a glare framing her face. "Honestly, Harry. I'm bound to get hurt! Look at what Dolohov did at the Ministry!"

His face darkened, "I shouldn't have let you-"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, causing him to stop speaking, "I wouldn't have let you go without me."

"But you can't get hurt," Harry insisted, his eyes holding his girlfriend's. Brown and green had never clashed together so fiercely as they did in this moment. "It's not just you... And... And I don't know what I'd do with myself if you got hurt... or the baby..."

Hermione swallowed. It was the first time they had really addressed the issue since Hermione had told him, "I know... but I can't just sit on the sidelines. I have to help you, Harry."

He sighed, "If the baby gets hurt-"

"I don't expect the fight to happen right away," Hermione interrupted. "I mean, the baby will already be born by the time we even get close to bringing him down... I just... we need to take things slowly with the war. The more logically we approach this, the easier it'll be to accomplish."

"We don't know that. I have no idea how to kill him, Hermione. He's about as dead as a vampire at the end of the day and no one can defeat him."

"Well... okay... So he was alive when you were a baby... You got rid of him then," Harry nodded in confirmation. "And then first year he was fused to Professor Quirrel."

"Right."

"Second year he was in the diary."

"I have this feeling that his diary self was just a ghost, though, a shell of his former self. He probably doesn't even know he was around then," Harry told me.

I nodded, "Alright.. And then fourth year, he is this..."

"Demon child looking thing," Harry described. "I can think of no other way to describe it. He was like a child, but in this cloak. And he looked like an old man, but not wrinkly. Like a new born baby, but... much uglier... It was weird. Like a new born adult... that hadn't eaten in ten years."

"And last year he was strong, probably at his strongest since his re-rise to power," Hermione observed. "He made a public appearance."

Harry nodded, "But that doesn't help defeat him."

"But maybe him returning after he's supposed to die does, Harry," Hermione insisted. "I mean, it's not natural to rise from the dead, is it? That's why vampires are controlled by the Ministry decree of-"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted.

Hermione shook her head, "Right, sorry. So if he keeps coming back to life..."

"Then he has to have something that's bringing him back," Harry nodded. "Yeah, I've thought of that."

"But what? Do his followers scavenge for his body and do that ritual?"

"No idea."

"Well obviously not," Hermione insisted. She took the paper back so Harry could work on his essay. "I just don't understand how that's possible. It goes against the Principles of Andrew Julian's Laws of Life and Death. No magic - that is known, that is - can bring back the dead."

"Maybe it's not known. Maybe it's something he created?"

"But why test it on himself? Why take the risk?" Hermione murmured.

"Maybe he didn't test it on himself..." Harry returned.

Hermione grimaced, "You're right. He's probably tried this on multiple people."

As Hermione continued through the paper, Harry finished his essay, but he was noticably distracted by the turn of events. You-Know-Who was doing something to bring himself back to life. But what?

It frustrated Hermione to no end. She had to figure it out... She had to know.

By lunch, Emma was awake and refused to leave Harry's side.

"Harry?" she asked as they sat on the couch. Linda had gone to the dentist office to do some work, trusting the trio home alone.

"Yes, Emma?" Harry asked over his sandwich.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Can you sleep in my room tonight?" she asked. "I have nightmares."

"Oh, uh..." Harry hestitated, before his eyes widened. "You know, Emma... if you stare your nightmares in the eyes, they get scared."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes widening as well.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, loads. They don't like being stood up to, you see. So when you stand up to them, they back off and run away. Why don't you try that tonight? And if it doesn't work... you can wake me up, alright?"

Emma bit her lip, thinking it over, "Alright... I'll try it..."

"I'll even leave the guest room door open," Harry insisted to her. "That way you don't have to make too much noise and wake up everyone else, alright?"

"Sure... thanks, Harry."

Harry grinned, ruffling the little girls hair, "Anytime, kiddo."

Hermione couldn't help but smile to herself. Yes, Harry was going to be a great father.


	11. Chapter 11

"And please, be careful. If there are bad people watching the house, I don't want you to leave, understood?" Linda insisted, glancing around worriedly as she picked up her suitcase handle.

"I'll protect them with my life, Mrs. Granger," Harry spoke.

"It's Linda," Mum reminded him. "Now, you two need to remember, no bad movies. Only PG-13 and under," she winked at me. "And no pornos. Not too many sweets. Keep the... fun stuff to the bedroom, and either the guest room or Hermione's room. Not my room, please. And Harry, there are some more clothes I found in Richard's drawers that don't fit him. I placed them in the guest room for you. Hermione, you remember the rest of the rules."

Hermione blushed, "Yes, Mum. I remember."

"Good, now you two go on!" Linda insisted.

"Bye, Mum," Hermione hugged her mother suddenly. "Have a safe trip, and don't stop for anything unless it's to rest."

"We know, dear," Linda insisted to her daughter, pulling away and leaning down to hug Emma, before hugging Harry. "Just remember to wait until she's asleep, dears."

"Mum!" Hermione protested, her eyes wide. "Honestly-"

Linda rolled her eyes and rolled her suitcase out the door. "Bye, dears!"

"Bye," the trio waved. Richard was in the drivers seat, strumming his fingers on the wheel. When the trio waved, he waved back shortly before his wife got in the car and they departed.

"Can we watch movies now?" Emma asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Alright."

That was how Hermione ended up three hours later, the credits to Shrek rolling. A box of sugar quills laid between Hermione and Harry, half empty. Emma was sprawled on the floor, sucking her thumb as she laid on a blanket.

Honestly, they had just finished lunch. She shouldn't be tired.

"Should we take her to bed?"

"No, she'll wake up soon," Hermione insisted quietly, reaching for the remote and changing the channel to something more teen appropriate. "She's always out after a movie."

Harry made a noise that sounded like he agreed, and relaxed into the couch. He grimaced suddenly and shifted his weight, pulling a small teddy bear from the cushions of the sofa. "Okay, that hurt."

Hermione giggled, "Emma loves her stuffed animals."

He leaned forward, then, and placed it besides the sleeping girl. "She's really sweet, your sister."

"She grows on you," Hermione agreed.

"Are you hungry?"

"Spaghetti?" Hermione asked.

Harry beamed, "Perfect. I'll help."

"No, Harry, I've got-"

"I insist," he insisted, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her into the kitchen. As the duo began to stir and cook the meal, they talked quietly about everything and nothing. Hermione inquired if he was healing well, and Harry assured her he hadn't felt better since Madame Pomfrey.

Hermione took a little pride in that comment, as Madame Pomfrey was the best healer of her time. "You don't know how worried I was, Harry," Hermione insisted. "You were on the floor... and you just... couldn't see anything."

"I didn't have my glasses," Harry insisted. "They had broken."

Hermione hugged Harry suddenly, her arms flying around his neck and holding him tightly to her. She held him as though he might disappear. Her fingers locked together as she pulled back and stared at Harry. He was so close to her... so why didn't it feel real? Why did this feel like a dream?

"Harry..." she breathed. She lost the one ounce of control she possessed and lifted herself onto her toes, pressing her lips softly against his.

He tensed a second before kissing his girlfriend back. Her hands wound their way up and to his cropped hair. Godric, she didn't know if she could live without this boy. He deepened the kiss, pushing her gently so she was resting on the kitchen counter, his arms caging her to that spot. Not that Hermione minded. Now, it felt real. She could feel him and hear him and see him - if she just opened her eyes - all at the same time. She could smell his citrusy skin and taste the sugary sweetness on his lips. Her senses were in overdrive.

Abruptly, he pushed himself off of her, running a hand through his even messier hair. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Harry, don't apologize," Hermione insisted, flushing and tightening her grip despite him stepping back. "Believe me, I'm not sorry."

"No, your father told me not to try anything. And I'm not going to," Harry told her, shaking his head. "I don't want to hurt you or-"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted quietly. He stopped talking and looked down at his hands, which were on either side of Hermione. "Dad's just putting up a 'Be good or I'll murder you for touching my daughter' front. Mum all but locked us in a closet together. My parents aren't as up-tight as I am.. or used to be. I don't know."

"Your sister's in the other room," Harry pointed out. "And I don't want to break your father's trust."

"He's not here, Harry," Hermione pointed out. "They're in France. The most he can do is call us in the moment."

"I just-"

Hermione sighed, giving Harry a soft smile, "Alright, fine. Hands off of you, see?" Hermione held her hands up in a surrendering gesture. She turned from him and drained the spaghetti.

"Are you worried?" Harry asked quietly.

"About?" Hermione inquired.

"Your parents."

"Of course," she sighed. "They don't have the protection we do... They don't have any magic to protect themselves with."

Harry was quiet, nodding, and we plated our meals, leaving Emma to sleep.

We stayed up late, finishing homework and watching the news for anything on the Death Eaters. The telly was soft on BBC1 and so far only a rail accident in the country.

"Has Ron written you?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione shook her head as she had him sit back to check his ribs, "No. They don't write me til the end of the summer. And they know my mum hates owls."

"Oh."

Hermione shrugged, "They only care about if I come over. I'm just going to tell them my parents want me to stay home the rest of the summer and then I won't get on the train. I think that's the best option, Harry."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Hermione, why would that be the best option?"

"If I go to the Burrow, they'll know something's up. And if I don't, they'll think I got kidnapped by Death Eaters. So-"

"You'll act Muggle and hide from the Death Eaters?"

Hermione nodded, her hands grasping his as they sat across from each other on the couch, turning so they could face each other. "So, you need to act like you have no idea where I am. Act like you've never seen me all summer. Act like nothing's going on. Just don't date Ginny."

He smirked, "Jealous?"

"Of course not," Hermione answered stiffly.

He chuckled, "Are you sure?"

Hermione shot Harry a look, "I'm sure. If she touches you though... I will curse her."

Harry laughed and squeezed her hand before standing, "Come on, it's late and you're almost falling asleep."

"I'm fine, Harry," Hermione yawned, "We need to figure out a plan."

He sighed, "Hermione, we have all summer-"

"Harry, we have a week until my parents get back. I'm not going to discuss this with them until we have it figured out."

He shook his head, "Always so organized. Alright, let's throw ideas around."

"I don't go to Hogwarts. I fake Dragon pox for my parents, or I tell them the truth-"

"The truth," Harry said firmly. "And I can't let you skip Hogwarts."

"We're going to have to think more on how that will work, then. I'll be showing, Harry. We can't have you-know-who find out. Or any of his Death Eaters. The reporters would have a field day with this."

He was quiet a moment, "What if we both stayed home-"

"No, you need to go. You have to show everyone that you're there, that you aren't going to abandon them when times get bad."

"But Hermione, you-"

"I'll live," Hermione told him quietly. "I will. You have to support our classmates. And Dumbledore might have some plans for you."

He shook his head, "So what? We have bigger things to worry about besides Dumbledore."

"No, I do. Harry, no one can find out, you know that."

He sighed, "Fine. I'll go to Hogwarts. You'll hide. We write in coded messages. We can't stay out of contact. Winter break-"

"We'll think of something, but not right now," she sighed to him. "Maybe say you're going to the Dursley's."

"And I will instead go where? Because the Dursley's would kill me-"

"You'd come here, silly," Hermione laughed. "You're never going back there again. After you come here winter break, we'll figure some more stuff out."

"But when I go back to school, you'll have the baby," Harry said quietly, frowning slightly.

Hermione nodded, sighing, "I know. But it has to happen that way. We'll think of something. I'll look up spells and stuff to maybe make it so you'll find out what happens when it happens."

"Baby?"

It was a new voice and Hermione snapped her head to the floor where Emma was sitting, her bear on her lap, watching us with curious eyes. Hermione squeezed Harry's hand tightly before letting go and standing. "Emma, you're up! Would you like some spaghetti?"

"Are you having a baby?" she asked stubbornly avoiding the question.

"Emma," Hermione warned.

She sighed, "Yes, I'd like some spaghetti," she pouted. "Now answer my question... please?"

Hermione sighed and glanced at Harry, but he was giving Emma a small smile. Hermione turned to her sister and sank down on the floor, "Yes. I am."

Her eyes widened in excitement, "Who's the daddy? Is it Harry?"

Hermione glanced at Harry and nodded, "Yes, it is, Emma. But you can't tell Mum and Dad. Harry and I are going to tell them soon, okay? But we have to do it our own way."

She nodded immediately, "I'm going to be an aunt!?"

Hermione laughed, shaking my head, "Yes, you are. But can you be quiet about it when Mum and Dad come back?"

"Yes," she said immediately. "I won't tell anyone!"

"Good," Hermione smiled, kissing her cheek. "Come on, let's get you some food."

"But you and Harry aren't done talking!" she insisted. "Can I talk with you?"

"Honey, Harry and I-"

"Sure, if you'll promise to eat while we do," Harry told her, cutting Hermione off. Hermione glanced at him, but he winked. Deciding to roll with it, she stood and headed towards the kitchen, plating a left over bowl of spaghetti for her sister before heating the foot. The trio then gathered on the rug, instead of the couch, so they could talk in a circle.

"We have to find out a way the Order won't come here to check on you," Harry started after Emma began to eat.

"I'll tell them I'm dropping out," Hermione said simply.

"Too suspicious," Harry insisted. "They'll know something's up."

Hermione nodded. He was right. "What if I act like I'm really sick. And my mum refuses magical treatment? Or I'll tell them Mum refuses me to go to school."

"That might work. But the sick thing won't. They'd read your minds."

Hermione nodded, not having thinking about this. "Then I'll tell my dad about the war. Everything. From you to Dumbledore, to you-know-who."

"So we have a plan?" Harry confirmed.

"Ish," I conceded.

"Good," Harry nodded.

Hermione glanced at Emma, "Come on, let's get you to bed." Hermione cleaned the plate and placed it in the dish washer before taking her sisters hand and leading them up the stairs. As soon as Hermione tucked Emma in and shut the light off, she was out, a small bedtime story not even requested. Hermione pulled Harry from the room before shutting the door.

"Look," Hermione whispered to him as they entered the hallway. "Dad won't be thrilled, neither will Mum, when she knows everything about the war."

"I'm not leaving you," Harry insisted. "I'm in this for good. Not because I have to be, but because I want to be. Whether you want me or not."

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and smiled brightly, "Actually, I was going to say don't let them get to you, but that's good to know as well. And I wasn't going to force you to stay. If it became too much, I would have understood."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead, "I'm Harry Potter. I'm stupidly stubborn."

"And I'm Hermione Granger. I try get some logic into you," Hermione teased. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

Hermione made her way to my room and grimaced as she glanced at the window at the end of the hall. This place had too many windows.


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione Jean Granger tried to sleep, she really did, but found she couldn't.

That was why she was creeping through the hall, silently, until she reached the guest room. Harry's chest was rising and falling rythmatically, up and down, before repeating. One arm was draped across his chest as he slept on his side. The other was under his pillow. He looked so peaceful. Like nothing had happened to him to cause him such torment and pain in his waking hours. Like he wasn't Harry Potter. Hermione sighed to herself, relieved to see him sleeping so peacefully, and took a small step back, before she turned to leave.

"Hermione?" she heard him mutter.

The Granger teen froze, hoping she hadn't woken him. A peak over her shoulder showed him propped up on his arm and squinting to see her better without his glasses. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, his voice still heavily ladden with sleep.

She shook her head, "Nothing. I was just wondering if you were sleeping okay."

"You can't sleep," he guessed. He sighed, "Your father's going to kill me." Holding up the blankets, he scooted over, "Get in. Before the warm air gets out."

Hermione hesitated a second before doing so and he pulled the blankets up, wrapping his arm around her as he pulled his girlfriend into his chest. "Goodnight," he muttered into the brown, bushy hair.

Hermione felt her eyes droop from a sudden wave of exhaustion, "Goodnight."

Hermione was awoken by a piercing scream. Bolting up, she clutched my wand and pulled the covers off of her. Harry was already awake and racing for the door. Hermione was a step behind him.

"Crucio!" a voice cackled. Hermione's blood ran cold as she saw the door to Emma's room kicked open.

"They can't see you," Hermione whispered furiously Harry. "You don't have a wand. You need to wait for me in the guest room. Don't-"

"Hermione-"

"Please," Hermione begged Harry. "Please."

He was conflicted, but he obeyed. Hermione peered into the bedroom of her sister and saw Emma writhing on the ground, her blankets tangled around her. She had fallen out of bed, it seemed. A cloaked figure was laughing as Emma screamed.

"Stupify!" Hermione shouted. The Death Eater fell away and slammed into the wall. "Expelliarmus!" she shouted once more. Hermione clutched their wand in her hand and grabbed Emma, pulling her into the older girl's side, despite her whimper in protest. Hermione kept her wand on the Death Eater, glancing behind herself every second to make sure no one was coming. "Obliviate," she whispered once I was in the hall, her back flush against the wall. Emma was sobbing, her voice nearly making Hermione lose concentration.

Once the obliviation spell did its magic, Hermione stepped into the guest room, and found Harry, throwing on his clothes and putting his glasses on as fast as he could.

"What-"

Hermione tossed him the Death Eater's wand. "Take Emma," she told him, unwrapping the girl from her legs and gently guiding her to Harry. "I need to get our things from my room. Don't even think about moving from this spot."

"We'll go with you," Harry said firmly. He gripped Emma's hand and pulled her up into his arms, effortlessly, and clutched her to him so she wouldn't let go. "We need to hurry. There have to be more."

Hermione nodded and made her way to the bedroom she grew up in. She shrunk her trunk, packing everything, before summoning Emma's teddy bear and a few of her clothes. She then shoved that into her purple beaded bag and then slung it over her shoulder. "Stay close," Hermione warned Harry. She shut her bedroom door behind me firmly and then the guest rooms, to make it look like they hadn't left. Hermione made sure no sound was emited.

"She needs to be quiet," Hermione whispered to Harry.

"Trying," Harry returned and he pressed the sister's head into his neck.

"Muffiliato," Hermione flicked her wand at her sister and she was silent at once. They couldn't be cought. There were more. They didn't just travel alone. As they crept down the stairs, Harry watching their backs as they made their way to the living room, Hermione could hear things being overturned in the kitchen and angry voices. At least two.

Hermione grabbed the cell phone on the coffee table and made her way to the front door. She slowly opened it and ushered Harry through before stepping through myself. She grabbed Harry's arm and apparated before the invaders even knew they had left.

As soon as they landed, Hermione flipped open her phone and dialed her parents. "Please, pick up."

"We're sorry, the number you have dialed is not available. Please leave an automated voice message and," there was a pause. "The Granger's" another pause. "Will call back soon." After a beep, the frantic girl left a quick voice message. "The house isn't safe. Don't come home. Harry, Emma, and I are okay. We're going to be fine. Just don't go home, please. Call me when you get this, please, Mum, Dad." Hermione pressed end and then sat down in the forest, gesturing for Harry to let go of Emma. Hermione removed the spell and the little girl sobbed, flinging herself into her sister's shirt.

"Do you hurt?" Hermione asked her. Emma nodded and Hermione reached for her bag, "Where?"

"M-My head. It hurts so bad! And my arms are on fire-"

Hermione expected this, as she had read a lot about the cruciatus curse. She dug around her purple bag, finding the Essence of Dittany, and pouring a few drops onto her hands before rubbing them on the little girl's arms and running her hands through her auburn brown hair. In a soothing voice, Hermione spoke, "I'll be better soon, I promise." She then glanced at Harry, "We can't stay here."

"I know a place," he told her.

"Where?" As far as Hermione knew, there was no place. Grimmauld Place was Order headquarters, and that was the only place she could think of.

"S-Sirius mentioned it," he choked a little on Sirius's name, but spit it out. "My grandparents home. Potter Manor."

Hermione bit her lip, "Harry, is it safe?" She had never even heard of it. As far as she knew, the Potter Manor didn't exist, neither did the grandparents he spoke of, anymore.

"Yes," he nodded, "I'm positive. Remus is secret keeper."

Hermione nodded, relaxing a little. She trusted Remus Lupin with her life, even if he was a werewolf. He was good at heart and a true loyal person to Harry. "Very well. That's where we'll go." she hugged Emma to herself tighter and sighed slowly into the girl's hair. Thank Merlin she was okay. "I don't want us seperated."

"I'm not letting that happen," Harry promised.

Hermione grasped her boyfriend's arm and kept a tight grip on Emma. "Close your eyes, think of it," she told him. "I'll apparate us. Just concentrate on Potter Manor-"

"I've never-"

"Harry," Hermione snapped. He quickly shut his eyes and she gripped his arm painfully before apparating, thinking of Potter Manor. She just hoped it was enough.


	13. Chapter 13

They landed on a large field, with wilting wheat stretching for miles in all directions. The only indicator that this wasn't the middle of nowhere was the large manor that rose from the dirt. It was obviously very old. Medieval stone was worn by weather, and the glass was wavy with age. Potter Manor did exist after all.

Harry retrieved Emma from Hermione's arms, and held her as they began to trek at least a few miles towards the manor. The sun was just beginning to rise with day break, meaning they had left around four in the morning from the Granger household.

"Do you think it's empty?" Harry asked.

Hermione noticed they hadn't gotten halfway yet, but she was still apprehensive. "I hope so," she answered. "Unless Remus has his full moons here." She did not know where Remus went for full moons, she had never thought to ask. During her third year, of course, there was the Shrieking Shack, but he no longer taught at Hogwarts. He had to go somewhere.

"The full moon isn't for another week," Harry mentioned, glancing at the fading moon in the sky.

Nearly another hour passed before we reached the front gates of the manor. Gargoyles guarded it, giving the trio a weary look, before letting the gates swing open. The garden inside was nothing like the field beyond. Green and full of live, flowers and shrubbery bloomed and grew. Vines tangled around old lamp posts and the rocky cobblestone path caused Hermione to stumble a few times. Her wand was in a vice grip, her eyes darting to every shadow around her.

As they reached the door, Harry couldn't help but mutter, "Please be safe."

Reaching her hand out, she was about to knock - as she didn't know what to really do - when the door swung open. Hermione gasped, stepping back a step as the darkness of the manor refused to let her see what was inside.

When their eyes readjusted, they came face to face with a small elf with large green eyes.

"Master Potter!" it squeaked. "Master Potter has returned! Please, step inside, Master. And Mistress and Young Miss as well!"

"Er, thanks," Harry said, confused. He did as the elf instructed and Hermione followed him, her eyes glancing around the foyer. It was remarkably well lit on the inside, despite not being able to see earlier. The walls were made of pure cream marble, glowing torches hanging from metal rungs. Satin red curtains, some velvet, hung over the windows, pooling across the floor. Gryffindor tapestries adorned the walls as they walked down a corridor, also brightly lit by torches. There were some tables every few meters with silver platters and silver carvings, some gold busts. The Potters were obviously very rich.

Harry set Emma down, but did not remove his grip on her hand. He would be the perfect father, Hermione thought absently, giving them a glance before watching around them. Ahead, directly at the end of the corridor, was a set of stairs with a single rug, the color of a deep, deep gold, running up the middle. Hermione wondered briefly if it was real gold, as it shimmered and seem to be melting down the steps.

"My name is Porter, Master Potter," the elf bowed at the foot of the steps. "I will be showing you around today. If you three ever need anything, just call and I will help. Master and Mistress should be in the study, Young Master, Miss, and Young Miss."

Hermione furrowed her brow, "Master and Mistress?"

"Yes, Miss Granger!" Porter squeaked, his red pillow case brushing the ground as he bowed. Golden details were sewed around the hem line. "Master Charlus and Mistress Dorea!"

"Your grandparents, Harry," Hermione whispered to Harry at his confused expression. "Your father's parents. I remember seeing the name's in that room Sirius had..."

"But-"

"Come, Master, I will show you," Porter squeaked eagerly.

Harry and Hermione stood there for a moment, Emma still clinging to Harry's side, but taking small steps as we began to follow the elf up the stairs and down another corridor. This one had paintings and moving portraits that reminded the elder of the three of Hogwarts. Simply beautiful.

A portrait of a half bald man watched them closely before whispering to his portrait-mate, a pretty girl that couldn't be older than eighteen. The girl nodded and disappeared, only to appear in the next portrait they came across, of two women having tea. The portraits were all old - as the style the gowns were suggested the Elizabethan era. Hermione glanced at Harry to see him looking around him as well. As Porter grabbed a torch from a low rung, the trio cound read the metal plates at the bottom of each frame.

Catherine Potter and Harold Potter.

Elizabeth Potter and Rosaline Potter - Sisters until their tea ends.

Imogene Potter.

Slowly they reached more modern times until they came to the last two portraits.

Charlus and Dorea Potter. Lilian Evans and James Potter with Harry Potter.

Harry's wand hand found Hermione's empty hand and his eyes stared at the two portraits. His grandparents were obviously in their twenties or so in their picture - perhaps their engagement or wedding portrait. Black hair for both of them, and looking very much related. Hermione knew they had to be cousins or something, as that was what all Pureblood families were.

Lily and James Potter's portrait had a small boy shared on both of their laps. And it was obvious it was a baby Harry by the bright green eyes and the untamable hair like the man that was holding him up. Harry's parents smiled at them all, and spoke, "Why, hello. Visitors, Porter?" James Potter asked.

"The first we've had in a decade, Master James," Porter replied brightly. "Master Harry, Miss Hermione, and a Miss Emma."

Hermione didn't recall ever mentioning her name, but the elf seemed to know them. That unsettled her.

The couple glanced down at their lap, to the baby boy with circular rimmed glasses. And then to the teen before them. "You're our son... My, the times have flown, haven't they, love?" James Potter asked.

Lily smiled fondly at the trio. "Hello, Harry. It's wonderful to meet you, all grown up."

"H-hey, Mum," Harry spoke, his eyes curious. "Dad."

"Master and Mistress are waiting, Master Harry," Porter spoke.

Hermione glanced at the elf, to see him moving to the door that stopped at the end of the hall. It was a great mahogany door with golden inlays. Everything in this place was beautiful, everything including this door. Bloody hell.

The elf knocked twice and there was a pause before a voice spoke, rather startled, "Enter!"

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other. These were the grandparents Harry had never known of. Hadn't even known were alive. Hermione assumed they were dead. Hermione believed even Remus thought they were dead as well. They were never mentioned as far as she could recall.

The elf eagerly opened the door, "Young Master has returned, Mistress! And Young Master has brought friends!"

"Imposters," a harsh voice spat sharply. Hermione nudged Harry forward, her grip taking Emma's hand as he entered the study first. Please let us be safe here. Just for a few hours, at least, Hermione seemed to beg.

"Young Master Harry," the elf spoke once more, taking Harry's pant leg and tugging it so he'd take another step into the room. Hermione was close behind and saw the family just as soon as Harry had. An elderly woman sat in the chair by the fire place, her resemblance nearly that of the portrait of Walburga Black in Grimmauld Place. She had hazel eyes that were half-hidden behind her spectacles. Her white hair was in a tight bun atop her head. As she stood, quickly, I noticed how young she looked. Not the hundred and something she ought to be. According to Sirius, anyway. She looked in her late sixties. Perhaps Professor McGonnagall's age. A man was standing beside her, his hand brandishing a glass of brandy.

He was clean shaven, as old as the woman. His hair was gray, but he still had all of it. A simple buttoned shirt and trousers clothed him. He looked... grandfatherly. He had a pair of glasses, similar to Harry's. Only more oval. And his eyes were a bright bue.

He offered a bright smile upon seeing Harry, whereas the woman frowned tightly.

"Who are you?"

"I-I'm Harry Potter," Harry said nervously, his eyes narrowed and clutching his wand. "This is my girlfriend, Hermione Granger, and her sister, Emma."

The woman's eyes flickered to Hermione a moment, before nodding slowly. "Good, now why are you here?"

And then Hermione realized, when they didn't advance on them, why they could not. The entire far wall was a portrait - a floor to ceiling portrait. And Charlus and Dorea Potter were indeed not alive. They were a life sized painting.


	14. Chapter 14

"My house," Hermione told them quietly, gaining their attention. "Death Eaters, in the middle of the night, they attacked. We got out before they hurt us too much."

"Who did they hurt?" the man asked, taking a step forward, but not too much so.

Hermione looked down at her sister, seeing the girl cower behind her leg as Charlus looked at her, "Emma. We- we awoke to her screams. I stunned the Death Eater while Harry fetched the things. I gave Harry the Death Eaters wand-"

"Where is your wand?" the woman cut in sharply, looking at Harry.

"It's at the Weasley's home. The Burrow," Harry said, unsure of what else to say. "I don't take it home with me. My, uh, my relatives don't like it."

"Which relatives?" the man asked, where the woman said, "You don't keep your wand in the time of war!?"

She more like screeched it.

Harry answered timidly, his body still slightly in front of the Granger ladies. He was tense, assessing the people that were supposedly his family - even though they could do no harm to the trio from their portrait. "My aunt and uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley. My mum's sister." The man nodded and then Harry addressed the woman, "My relatives hate magic..."

"At least he is alive," Hermione defended Harry as he seemed to trail off, not knowing how to react to this situation. "He could be dead or severly hurt by now-"

"Both are guaranteed to pass in this war, Miss Granger," Dorea said tersely. "Porter, have the healer elves check out the little one. Then have the wards secured. The boy has enemies I am far too old to fight."

Porter nodded and disappeared with a crack, before reappearing with three elves that rushed over to Harry, Emma, and Hermione. They began to wave their hands over them, healing any injuries. Hermione, though not injured, felt better when they healed her sore muscles from the miles of walking. She honestly needed to get in shape.

"Fight?" Harry asked. "I'm sorry, but... you're, well..."

"Dead?" Dorea supplied. "Yes, but that does not mean that the magic surrounding this Manor isn't alive. It needs a Potter to sustain it. Porter, after you set the wards, be sure these three get some food. They look very gaunt."

"Dorea... Why don't you three have a seat? I'm sure you're very confused as of now. Harry, you loook as though you've never even heard of us."

"Well, I haven't," Harry admitted, sitting besides Hermione on a small couch facing the portrait. "I mean, well, Sirius mentioned you once. How he lived here when he was sixteen... but I haven't heard much else."

Dorea sniffed, "I see."

"They act like they don't even know I'm alive," Harry whispered as a few plates of breakfast were presented to the trio. Hermione discreetly did some poison spells to make sure they wouldn't be poisoned before reaching for a plate and handing it to Emma.

"Because we didn't know," Dorea Potter-Black spoke up. Harry flushed, realized he hadn't whispered as quietly as he thought. "When Albus told us James and Lily had died, and Sirius was in Azkaban for their murder... we assumed you were dead as well. But you are my grandson. I can tell. We just needed to be sure."

It all made sense, "Those questions," Hermione exclaimed. "They were a test!"

"Death Eaters have long tried to penetrate the walls of Potter Manor. Yet, they have so far not succeeded. Charlus and I had to be cautious. Now, tell me," she gave Harry a look that meant caution, "Why was my grandson at your home?"

"I appeared there," Harry explained, blushing slightly. "I accidentally apparated. And I ended up at her home. Her parents took care of me. And as soon as they left for vacation, we were attacked." Harry glanced at the window that showed dawn just now turning into the morning sun. "When did you die?"

"After a few years here, we had secluded ourselves from the wizarding world and having thinking our entire family had died, no longer felt obligated to keep tabs. We died of old age, though Charlus thinks a broken heart claimed us," Dorea spoke very matter of factly, sitting back in her chair.

Charlus rolled his eyes, "You all must be tired. Come, I will show you to your rooms."

"You mean, we can stay?" Harry blurted.

Hermione, too, was confused by the actions this woman presented. Cold then warm. "Of course! You're family! And your friends as well. Of course. You know," she started to walk away as she continued to speak and Harry picked up a sleepy Emma before following her. Hermione was quick to follow as the portraits all suddenly had a Dorea and Charlus in them. As the elder Potter couple walked to the doors, the younger trio watched as they appeared across the room. Amazing. Just like in Hogwarts. "James would always bring his friends over. Peter, Remus, Sirius. And Sirius lived here after he ran away from home."

"Yes, he mentioned it in passing."

"Mentioned it?" Dorea asked sharply, even though Harry had already spoken of this. "He was in Azkaban! How could he have talked to you?"

"He was innocent. No trial before he was sent. And he escaped three years ago. He, uh, he died in June. He was protecting me from Bellatrix-"

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Dorea cut in sharply.

Harry swallowed, nodding.

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry. Sirius was such a great lad." she dabbed at her eyes, though she did not produce tears. "I always hoped he was good, you see. That he was under the imperious when he committed the crime."

"It was Pettigrew," Hermione told her angrilly. "He betrayed your son and daughter-in-law."

"Peter?" Dorea asked, pausing outside of a doorway to a room. Charlus and her were in the portrait beside the dark wooden door and staring at us with shock. She shook her head, "Always so timid and shy. I should have known. This is your room. Well, there are two bedrooms, but this is the chamber area. I trust you'll be safe?"

Harry flushed, "Uh, of course. Thank you."

"Now, get some sleep, dears," she said kindly. "Oh, and please, all of you, call me Grandmother. You're all the family we have left now, alive."

She hurriedly left the portrait before anyone could respond. Harry gazed around, before reaching for the door and opening it. As they stepped into the gold and burghundy room, Harry turned to Hermione "Have you heard from your parents?"

Hermione shook her head, glancing at the exhausted Emma in his arms. "No, no I haven't. I-I'm unsure of their safety. They would have gotten there tonight..."

He sighed, "Let's get her to bed."

Hermione nodded and followed him to a bedroom. He opened the door and Hermione spotted the single double bed. Harry set her down and Hermione sat on the edge, soothing her as she started to cry.

"I want Mummy!" she sobbed.

"I do too. But Mummy's going to call me," Hermione told her.

"Where are Mummy and Daddy?"

Hermione sighed, pressing the little girl's hair down under her hand, and hugging her tightly, "They're in France. They're safe, I promise." Hermione met Harry's eyes briefly and he glanced away, frowning. He was guilty.

"Get some sleep," Hermione murmured to Emma, her eyes returning to the little girl. "I'll be here the entire time, I promise."

She nodded and fell asleep after a few minutes of humming to herself. The song she loved most. London Bridge.


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione glanced at Harry, who was tugging on his hair as he paced the room. Slowly detaching herself from her sister's sleeping body, Herminoe rose and touched Harry's shoulder as he continued to pace.

"It's not your fault," she told him quietly.

"It is," he told her quietly, self-loathing coating his tone. "They only came to your home because you're my girlfriend. Because we know each other. And they've been watching you. When they saw me with you at the park, they knew they could knock out two birds with one stone. So they attacked. This is all my fault that she got hurt, Hermione-"

Hermione shook her head, taking his hand tightly as she forced him to stop moving and look at her, "Never is it." She met his eyes fiercely. "Harry, you don't cause people to be attacked. The Death Eaters would have attacked my home whether you were my friend or not, whether you were there or not."

He shook his head, "No. That Death Eater was in your home because of me, Hermione-"

"I'm Muggleborn, Harry," Hermione said sharply. "They kill me and others like me all the time. It doesn't matter if you were some pig farmer or my boyfriend! I don't care-"

"You should!" he insisted.

Hermione glanced at her sleeping sister and grabbed Harry's arm, dragging him to the common room of the quarters. "Harry, you can't possibly think that I would ever blame any of this on you! None of this is your fault! You didn't ask to be Harry Potter! You didn't ask to be the Boy-Who-Lived! Merlin, Harry, you didn't ask for any of this! That's why I can't blame you!"

He was taken-aback by the young woman's outburst and slowly sighed as he relaxed, "I'm sorry, I just- I was told my entire life I had no family left but the Dursley's. Now, I have grandparents, and my parents, and I'm going to be a father! It's a lot to take in in just a few days."

Hermione felt her face go pale, "Harry, when you were in my room... did you-?" she stopped, her hands instantly flying to the purple bag tied around her body. She began to dig through it. "Oh, please. Please be in here-" she sighed in relief as she pulled the pregnancy test out of the bag, her shoulders sagging. "Thank Merlin."

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"I thought I left it," Hermione told Harry simply. "And if I left it, and the Death Eaters came back..."

"They'd know," Harry finished as she trailed off.

Hermione nodded simply and took his wand, examining. "Bellatrix," she told him, recognizing it instantly. "That's her wand."

Harry's face turned a pinkish shade, "She was there and you didn't let me-"

"Getting yourself killed isn't going to help anyone!" Hermione hissed at him. "And I didn't know who it was. Harry, I want Bellatrix dead too, but-"

"She killed Sirius, Hermione," Harry spat.

Hermione met his eyes calmly, noticing how their arguments always seemed to go from one being upset, to the other, and then back again. But they never shouted, something Hermione and Ron always seemed to do. "I know, Harry. I want to make her pay for what she did, but stooping to their level, that will only cause us to be the bad person too."

Harry sighed and sank into a chair by the fire place. "Why do you always have to be right?"

Hermione gave him a smile and sat opposite of him, "I have to think rationally. I've grown up with you. And you act irrationally when you're upset."

"All but once," Harry admitted, giving his girlfriend a small smile. She raised an eyebrow, asking him to continue without words. "A night, about a month ago-"

Hermione flushed immediately, her reaction causing Harry to break off, laughing. "Harry, honestly-"

"I don't ever regret it," Harry told her quietly, cutting her off. "But-" Hermione felt her smile freeze on her face. "But I do wish the war wasn't in our lives. You're already in danger. This will only feul the fire-"

"A baby will be difficult to care for in the war," Hermione admitted, frowning. She hadn't thought of this too much, but the more she thought of it, the more it seemed to be a bad idea. "But I'll manage, I'm sure of it."

"We will," Harry promised.

"Come on, Harry, you need sleep."

Harry nodded stiffly and rose, taking the wand of his enemy into the bedroom that did not contain Emma. Hermione rose a few minutes later, conflicted. She did not want to leave her sister alone, but nor did she want to leave Harry alone. She decided to stay with Emma in the end and gently moved the girl over a little so she could crawl in the bed. Hermione was out before her head even hit the pillow, millions of worst case scenarios raging through her mind.

But right now, her family, and their survival, was all that mattered to her.


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione Granger awoke when the sun hit her face. Perhaps she had already been awake and was pretending to sleep? She didn't know. But she did know that she was just as tired as when she had gone to sleep the previous night, before the attack. Emma was still asleep and a note on the nightstand said that she would be asleep for a little while longer for her body to recover. Hermione guessed the elves had slipped the note in.

But the room Hermione had fallen asleep in, was occupied. Not by her sister and herself only. Harry was curled up on the sofa, a small blanket draped across his shoulders. The dark red couch was much too small for him, as he was cramped and contorted. Hermione felt a smile taint her lips as she let out a soft breath and slowly sat up, carefully moving out of the bed. Emma stirred, but didn't wake, thankfully.

Harry blinked a few times as Hermione tried to shut the curtains before they woke him up. However, that didn't happen.

"Your phone rang," were Harry's first words.

Hermione glanced at the phone on the nightstand and took it cautiously, flipping it open to see eight missed calls from 'Mum'.

Hermione played the voicemail, biting her lip as she glanced at Harry, who was watching the teenage girl intently. And after the automated voice, a beep echoed quietly in the room as the speaker turned on.

"Dear, what do you mean the house isn't safe? Where are you? Are you and Emma alright? What about Harry?" Hermione's mother's voice turned frantic. "I've been trying to call you all morning! Answer, immediately! Your father and I arrived in France last night. We didn't stop, like usual. We're in Lyons now. Arrived a few hours ago. Dear, please be careful. And when it's safe, we need to meet up. Your father sends his regar-" There was a shuffle and then Hermione Granger's father spoke.

"Hermione, I am highly upset by your behavior," her father said, sighing. Hermione felt her eyebrows furrow. Harry, who had been listening, glanced at the teen curiously, then back to the device. "You know I keep a nanny cam on Emma-"

Hermione felt her mouth go dry, "Oh, Godric..."

"Pregnant at seventeen?" Hermione gave a choked breath. He knew. "I will kill that boy-"

"Richard!" Mum chatisted.

"I like him, Hermione. He's a good boy. Been through a lot. And he acts quite respectable. I understand people do things in the moment. I mean, look at your Mum and I-"

"Richard!"

"Just don't throw everything away for him. Your mother and I won't be returning home. Not until you say it's safe. I hope you'll take care of yourself and the baby. And Emma. And Harry better take care of the three of you, too. Hope to hear from you soon."

"Please, dear, all of you, be careful," the Granger mother said before it cut off.

Hermione sighed as she fell into the seat beside Harry. "Well that went rather well."

Harry chuckled, running his hand through his unruly hair, "I'd have to agree."

"We have until noon before Emma wakes," Hermione told him, glancing at him. He raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to look around? See if there's anything worth it to see?"

"Let's go," Harry said, rising from the chair and offering a hand to help his girlfriend up. Hermione took it and followed him to the door. She reached for the handle, but Harry was quicker, his hand darting for it and pulling it open, gesturing for the teen to go.

Hermione shook her head goodnaturedly, muttering under her breath, "Men."

"Woman," he returned.

Hermione allowed a small giggle to pass my lips as they left the Common Room, before she stepped into the hallway. It was well lit as the windows overlooked a garden with vines and roses twisting and turning for what seemed like miles. It looked absolutely stunning.

"Let's go," Hermione said eagerly.

They discovered a library, a swimming pool, and a few more bedrooms by 11:30, and they had only discovered things on their floor. As the couple made their way back to their bedroom, Porter popped in front of them, grinning widely and bowing his large head until his eyes were level with the ground. "Can Porter do anything for Miss and Master?"

Hermione shook her head immediately, "No, we're fine. Um, Porter, do you like working here?" S.P.E.W. ran through her mind and she recounted all of the steps to get a house elf free.

Porter nodded happily, "Of course, Miss! Master Charlus and Mistress Dorea pay us elves a knut a day. We are very grateful for such nice Masters."

Hermione glanced at Harry, flashing him a triumphant grin, "I don't think they're Death Eaters."

"Oh, no," Porter insisted. "Master and Mistress are not Death Eaters. They hate death Eaters, Miss. Ever since Master James and Mistress Lily died."

"Ever since?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself, though she noticed Harry opening his mouth to say something similar.

"Yes, Master Harry. Master Charlus and Mistress Dorea supported the Death Eater cause until her descendents death," he said simply, eager to help. "But after Master James married Lily Evans, their support for the Death Eaters was weakened. Many people in the first war, Master, were Death Eater supporters. Because of fear for what they may do to their families."

"Thank you," Harry said, his jaw clenching. Hary took Hermione's arm and roughly pulled the teen down the hall until they reached the Common Room.

"They're Death Eaters, Hermione!" Harry whispered furiously as the Common Room door clanged behind them.

Hermione winced and shrugged, "They haven't been for fifteen years, Harry. At least. I think it's safe to say they're alright. And we would be dead right now if they were."

Harry hesitated, "Still-"

"The Manor is safe, Harry," a voice interrupted their conversation. Harry went rigid and turned sharply, his eyes meeting his grandmother's in the floor length portrait on the wall. "We had no choice. He came in the middle of the night."

Her eyes flickered to Harry's grandfather, who was holding a glass of brandy, just as she had seen him last night, and leaning against the painted fireplace, though this one held no fire, unlike the real-life fireplace a few meters from him. "He appeared at the outskirts of our wards and I was foolish enough to investigate the disturbance. He recruited me. I was young, stupid. He was twenty years younger than me, and yet, he still spoke with wisdom I had never heard before, besides from Albus. When James was born, we had to stay, in order to protect him. We couldn't have James in danger. He was safe when he went to school. That is, until he was sorted in Gryffindor, like us. We could no longer stay with the Dark Lord. We returned here and reinforced the wards to only allow in blood relatives and those that were invited. Both were required."

"We were not invited," Hermione said quietly.

"No, but you did arrive with our grandson," Dorea insisted. "It's permission enough."

"We left him officially when James, in his seventh year, started to date your mother. For that, I must say we are deeply sorry," Charlus said.

"Sorry?" Harry asked. Hermione was confused as well.

"It is our fault your parents had, as the prophecy put it, 'thrice defied him'," Dorea quoted.

"He was angry," Hermione filled in, her eyes widened. "He tried to recruit them, because Lily was brilliant, and James was a pureblood. He wanted all the purebloods on his side... To gain favour."

"You are as brilliant as Lily," Charlus chuckled. "Quite intelligent. But yes, that is what happened. It is our fault."

"How could you join him in the first place!?" Harry demanded. "He killed my parents at his own hand!"

"You think we don't know that?" Dorea demanded, her eyes misting with unshed tears. "We knew it was a mistake immediately. We did not follow in the ideals of him, ever. Everyone back then was frightened. What were we supposed to do? Die? You would not be here to stop him if we had."

"They're right, Harry," Hermione said quietly, touching his arm as he turned his head to look at his girlfriend. "What they did shows they are on the Light side. But we can't fault them for acting out of fear. It is just what countless of other Death Eaters did."

"Hermione, what if the Dark Lord came here again? He knows about this place."

"No," Dorea insisted. "We made Remus Lupin our secret keeper. As far as we are aware, he is still alive. He was here, just last moon. The Dark Lord doesn't give second chances. When we died, he lost all interest in this place."

"Remus, he knew and all this time he never told me?" Harry asked. "About Mum and Dad in the portrait? You two?"

"You must ask him for his motives. I cannot tell them," Dorea said softly. "Now, Hermione, my dear, how far along are you?"

Hermione's lips pressed together in a hard line, and Harry squeezed her hand in his grip. Was it that obvious? Hermione knew she was barely a month along and -

"I was a healer, dear," Dorea chuckled, obviously mistaking Hermione's body language for one of mistrust. It was only partially that. "Back in the early nineteenth century, we were taught to sense pregnancy in a witch's aura. It is old magic now, quite unpracticed. But I can tell just by looking at the glow you seem to have."

"A month," Hermione answered her after a few seconds of hesitation.

"Ah, so you are not returning to Hogwarts then?" she asked the couple.

"Harry is," Hermione told them, glancing at her black haired boyfriend, who set his jaw, not agreeing in the slightest. "I'm forcing him to, really. But I will not, no. I do not want Professor Dumbledore to suspect anything. He's... he seems to be untruthful when Harry or I are out of contact."

"I understand why," Dorea muttered, obviously not happy to hear the Headmaster's name.

"What's Dumbledore done to you?" Harry asked.

"Lied," Charlus said simply. "We were told all of the Potter's perished. And all of the Potter's bodies were un-recoverable. And Sirius was guilty of inflicting this tragedy. Perhaps we were too foolish to believe Sirius would do something like that." Harry winced at his Godfather's name. "But we were told that leaving the wizarding world would be best. No Prophet's, no letters. We did not realize we had family left. When we died, all of our will was left to your father, Harry, as we had not touched it since their death. We had no reason to."

"No one ever mentioned you," Harry said simply. "I didn't even know what had become of you, nor my mother's parents. It was as if you had never existed at all."

"Your mother's parents were killed in a car crash the night of your mother and father's death," Dorea said quietly. "Death Eaters were involved."

Harry swallowed, nodding, and then glanced at his girlfriend. Hermione knew just by how his eyes tensed on her form what he was thinking. Would Hermione's parents be victim next, just because of him? Would Emma then as well? Would Hermione herself?

Hermione had long since grown accustomed to the idea of dying because of her involvement with Harry. She didn't care. One... week with Harry was enough for her to die happy.

"I can't let that happen to them," Harry spoke to his grandparents. "What can I do?"

Hermione bit her lip to keep from protesting.

"There is much one can do. The safest place for them would be to remain here," Dorea spoke.

Hermione couldn't hold it in, and spoke her protest, not caring the look she got from Harry that told her it was futile to argue. "I can't stay here. There is so much to do still. I have to research-"

"Hermione, it's not safe to leave," Harry insisted.

"It's not safe for you to either," Hermione told him insistantly. Quietly she added, "You know I don't like being told what to do, Harry-"

"Do you want to get yourself killed?"

She flinched harshly at his words and glanced down at herself, her arms unconsciously wrapping around her tiny midsection, "No, of course not, Harry-"

"Do you want Emma to get hurt-?"

"No," Hermione said sharply. "Harry, I can't stay here, all holed up, while you go to Hogwarts and do what you need to do."

"Then I won't go-"

"You must," Hermione hissed. "Harry, you have to understand."

"Understand what, Hermione?"

Hermione clenched her jaw, trying to ignore the bite in his tone. "I need to help, Harry. I need to find out how to kill him without you dying. And in order to do that, you have to get it from Dumbledore. And to get it from Dumbledore, you have to go to Hogwarts. I've made those coins, do you honestly think I can't make anything else so we can stay in touch?"

"You know I know you can," Harry insisted.

"Then do this or so help me Merlin, I will leave in the middle of the night, Harry," Hermione threatened.

"I like her," they heard Charlus insist. "She reminds me of Lily Evans. Spitfire."

"You wouldn't," Harry insisted, ignoring him.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Try me."

He sighed, "Fine. You get it your way."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled.

"Minx," Harry teased. Hermione blushed and stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation.

"Right, you'll have to take the Knight Bus to wherever you go before heading to Hogwarts," Dorea decided. "And your parents, dear," she turned to Hermione. "They are safe, right?"

Hermione nodded, swallowing at the realization that her parents were still out there, "They're in France right now. They got out before the attack on my house."

"If they want to stay in some place safe, our doors are open for them," Charlus told the teens gently.

"Thank you, sir, but they are Muggles. I don't think they'll know... how to get here, even if they could."

"We'll take care of the details," Dorea assured her. "Now, Emma, I believe, should be waking up any moment. Why don't you go rouse her and meet us in the dining room for lunch. I'm sure Porter will show you the way."

Harry just nodded and took Hermione's arm, walking to the bedroom where Emma was sleeping.

"Hermione, you're killing me here."

"Harry, I can't let you not get the information we need. Besides..." Hermione blushed a little. "You can let me read over your sixth year books after the year's over."

He chuckled a bit and as soon as the bedroom door shut behind them, pulled his girlfriend into an embrace, "I can't think of life without you. When I was beaten within an inch of my life, I only thought of something to make the pain go away. And that was you."

Hermione gave him a smile, though it was pressed against his shoulder, "Feeling's mutual."

"Is it?" he asked, his eyes flickering to her lips as he leaned forward a bit, their embrace though broken, hardly over.

"Guaranteed," Hermione murmured, blushing just enough to turn her cheeks pink.

He pressed his lips to hers gently, and she returned the kiss, closing her eyes and pulling him closer to her. She was disappointed a bit when he pulled away all too soon, so she told him what was on her mind, "Lillian Emma?"

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, "What?"

"A name, Lillian Emma?" she asked. "For a ... girl?" she continued timidly, gadging his reaction as he leaned back on his heels.

Harry gave a sad smile, "After my mother?"

Hermione nodded, her fingers running through his hair before locking behind his neck, "I figured that your mother has let you survive this far, why not let our child share that bit of luck?"

"I love it," he told her quietly. "What about James Sirius if it's a boy?"

Hermione giggled a bit and nodded, kissing him softly, "I love it."

"That way I'll know when you have the baby that it's one or the other," he insisted, thinking of the impending seperation they'd have for nine months.

Hermione nodded, "I agree. Coded owls?"

"That's what I was thinking," Harry said. "Like I did with ... Sirius."

Hermione kissed his cheek softly, "You're far braver that anyone's given you credit for."

He chuckled, "I hope so."

Hermione's fingers loosened their grip and she made her way to the bed. Emma was still asleep, so the teenage girl gently sat down beside her and smoothed her hair. "I never wanted her in the war," she told Harry. "Never wanted the Death Eaters to find her. Never wanted them to hurt her. Never wanted her to know such evil."

"But she does now," Harry sighed, his hand tugging his hair briefly.

"Yes, and I knew, deep down, that there would be a day when I couldn't stop it. Looks like yesterday was the day."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Hermione sighed to him. "Stop blaming yourself."

He stopped himself from arguing and sighed, looking down at the little sister, "How old is she?"

"Nearly four," Hermione told him, looking at her too. "She's turning four in December."

"She's looks so much like you."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "We do have the same parents."

"True," Harry chuckled, flushing slightly. Hermione considered asking if he was going to visit his family's portrait, but the girl under her fingers decided to wake just then. She decided she could wait until another time.


	17. Chapter 17

"Hermione?" Emma muttered, stirring at the light of the afternoon sun. "Harry?"

"We're here," Hermione murmured to Emma as the girl opened her eyes, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, where are we?" she yawned, sitting up and pulling the blanket from her

"Harry's grandparents home," Hermione told her.

"Mum and Dad?"

"They're safe, in France," Hermione assured her.

"But they're not here," Emma observed.

"I know, Emma, but I'm working on it-"

Emma shot straight up. "Mum and Dad are coming here?"

"Maybe," Hermione told her, and Emma visibly deflated. "We have to find them first. Now why don't we get something to eat? You have to be starving."

"Okay..." she sighed and crawled out of bed. "Mia, are Mum and Dad hurt?"

Hermione felt her heart clench at the very thought and immediately reassured her, "No. They're just fine. Are you hurting anywhere?"

She shook her head, "Not that I know of. I'm really hungry!"

Hermione glanced at Harry, shrugging, "Alright."

She hopped out of the room and Hermione followed her, tugging Harry's arm to get him to follow them, too.

They made their way to the dining room for lunch and the elves brought them a large meal.

"Ah, you've made it," Dorea smiled as she suddenly appeared in a portrait over the back of the far end of the table.

Hermione cleared her throat after they finished their meal, and addressed Harry's deceased grandparents. "We need to fake my kidnapping."

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice, "What?"

"Very well," Charlus agreed. "How do you propose we do it?"

Hermione glanced at Harry, letting out a breath, "You see. If the Order thinks the Death Eaters have me, they won't think I know anything about Dumbledore or the Weasley's. And the Death Eaters won't have any real leverage over the Order. They'd find that out eventually. But that eventually will give us time. So... we get a 'Death Eater' to write a ransom note... Or submit something to the Prophet... you know they're monitoring it. If someone thinks that I'm taken... they won't think of me plotting it at all."

Charlus nodded slowly, "Alright. I'll get started on the letter. Some fake handwriting. I think I'll be able to write something convincing."

"Would we send it to the Order?" Dorea asked. "Or the Prophet?"

"The Prophet would make it public," Harry said. "Get everyone in a frenzy. The Order would try to hide it..."

"Prophet it is," Charlus nodded.

"This manor is unplottable, yes?" Hermione asked the elder Potters. At their nods, Hermione gave a nod of her own, "That means they can't even plan to find me, right? If they do catch wind?"

"There's no way. We're sealed off. The only people we accept are those we want," Charlus told the teen girl.

Hermione gave a small nod, "Good."

"You think they will figure it out?" Harry asked.

"No, but we have to expect all possible outcomes," Hermione told him. "What do you say we practice Occulmency?"

"You aren't going to be like Snape, are you?"

"Professor Snape, Harry," Hermione corrected. "And... I'll try not to be."

Dorea grimaced, "Severus Snape taught you Occulmency?"

"Tried," Harry told them, blushing. "I, uh, made him mad and he kicked me out."

Hermione snorted, "It was an accident."

"He hates me."

"Hates your father," Charlus corrected, much to their surprise. "Always has."

And so training began. Harry and Charlus worked on Occulmency theory - which he was getting remarkably quickly. Hermione taught Harry defense charms, disguising charms, and anything else Hermione could get her hands on in the Potter library. Emma and Hermione helped Dorea with any spare projects she needed them on, though since she was just paint, could not do herself.

Harry wasn't given a spare moment to himself. He'd collapse, every night, exhausted into his bed. Hermione barely had time to say goodnight before he was asleep. When he mastered Occulmency, they finally moved onto Legimency. He wasn't as successful in that. Always got nosebleeds - which Hermione happily would heal.

"Does this always happen?"

"It means you're pushing yourself too much," Hermione scolded, pressed the white towel under his nose as she tilted his head back.

He just grumbled. "Pushing myself too much, says the girl who can't put down her book to eat a pancake."

Hermione shot him a glare, "Shut up." But she wasn't angry, not really, as a smile crept onto her face and she smacked his shoulder for good measure.

It wasn't until a few weeks into their routine were they comfortable enough with having spare time. And during that spare time, Harry would go to the main hall and speak with his parents. Hermione never intruded, as it was something that meant a lot to Harry. If Harry wanted her around, then he would ask her to. But so far, he hadn't, and Hermione respected that.

So that's when Hermione and Emma went exploring the Potter Manor, hoping for some signs of entertainment. Of course, since the house hadn't been occupied by living people for what seemed like ages, there seemed to be nothing exciting to the small child. So, Hermione would make up stories as they walked of people in the portraits, of tales of bravery and treachery.

They came across a door that never seemed able to be opened. A door that seemed... well, like it was hiding something. Hermione tried all the unlocking spells she knew, all the lock picking techniques she had learned through her Hogwarts days, but it never seemed to budge.

They visited the door every day, the pair of them, and tried everything to open it, but every day it was locked. It frustrated Hermione to no end, as she always knew how to get around any problem, except this never seemed to work...

"Hermione?" Harry called from down the hall. Hermione started, her head jerking from her hand that was proping it up. Emma was asleep in the seat across from Hermione, her children's book across her lap. Hermione rubbed her eyes and shut her novel of Unsticking the Ages before standing up.

"Hermione!?" Harry's voice came again.

She knew he'd come to the library so she gently nudged Emma awake, "Hey, it's bedtime, Emma."

"But... I'm not tired," Emma murmured before turning over and burying her head in the sofa's pillows.

Hermione smiled tiredly and stroked her sister's messy hair down, "Hey, let's go, Emma. Harry's looking for us."

"Five more minutes," she mumbled into the pillow.

Hermione yawned, but agreed, "Five more minutes."

She sat back down in the chair and reopened her book, but didn't even read the first line. She was back asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

Harry Potter entered the library in search of his girlfriend. He had just finished speaking to his parents, and had wished to unwind with the last bit of family he had alive... well, the last family he hoped to have in his life. He found Hermione asleep in her chair, a large book opened in front of her. Emma was across from her, asleep in a sofa by the fireplace.

As soon as they had come to Potter Manor, Harry knew that the library would be the most occupied of the house. And right now, he wasn't wrong. He stood staring at them a moment, trying to figure out the best plan of battle. Hermione was a nightmare to wake up, especially since her parents and her were seperated. She about hexed Harry blue last time he had woken her. Emma was relatively easy, as she slept through just about everything.

Harry snapped his fingers and Porter appeared, his eager large eyes staring up at Harry, "What can Porter do, sir?"

"Is it possible to get Hermione into bed without waking her?" Harry asked, knowing that he couldn't lift her. He could try, but he knew he'd only wake her up, and he truly didn't want to do that. She needed sleep. She was always up at the crack of dawn, starting the day with research and ended the day passed out because she overexhausted herself.

And Harry didn't know much about pregnant women, but he knew they could get grumpy, and he knew that they needed sleep.

"Yes, sir," Porter nodded. "Right away, sir-"

"I've told you, Porter, just call me Harry," Harry insisted quietly.

"Of course, Harry," Porter bowed before snapping his fingers. Hermione, and the elf, disappeared with the crack. Harry bit his lip as he pulled Emma into his arms and off of the couch. He was careful to remove the book from her lap so it didn't fall on the floor, and then he began the trek back to the bedroom.

In the dark, the halls were very shadowy. The moonlight did very little in lighting the way, but Harry managed to make it to the main hallway before counting the doors on his left to the bedroom. He always seemed to get lost.

"Lad," a voice startled the silence of the night.

Harry's heart pounded, but he relaxed when he recognized the voice. He turned towards the portrait beside him, giving a tired nod to his grandfather. "Hey."

"Lad, be careful, alright? And relax." The elderly man glanced at the child in Harry's arms and sighed, "Make sure they don't overwork themselves."

"I'll try my best, but you know Hermione," Harry gave a chuckle.

"She can't work herself too hard. Perhaps the times have changed, but she can't do anything when she works herself sick."

Harry nodded, "Thanks, I'll try to keep her from doing too much."

Charlus nodded and glanced once more at Emma, before sighing, "Off to bed, then. The both of ya."

"Goodnight, sir," Harry nodded before returning on his quest to the bedroom. He pushed open the Common Room door, careful not to jostle Emma too much, and made his way across the dimly lit sitting room towards the designated girls' bedroom.

Hermione was laying on the sheets, a pillow already clutched between her arms. The comforter was gathered around her feet, and the space beside her was empty, just enough space for Emma. Harry lowered the girl carefully, before taking the girl's tennis shoes off. He set them gently on the ground and reached for the blanket.

He honestly couldn't remember ever doing this before, but he didn't mind in the least. He liked Hermione a lot... but the more he thought about Hermione, his feelings changed.

Pulling the fabric over the two girls, he observed his girlfriend of just the short summer. Her bushy brown hair was pulled into a tight braid down her back, and her mouth was set in a small pout. He loved just watching her talk, because she'd go on for hours and hours, still as passionate about the subject as if she had just started, and her little pink lips were very distracting for Harry. Her eyes always seemed to be bright and optimistic, even at the darkest of times, and her witty remarks were always endearing.

Harry made sure the comforter was tucked around the girls to keep them warm before sighing and kissing each of their foreheads in turn. He left the bedroom door open a crack, as always, before retreating to his own bedroom.

He hated sleeping alone. In school, he was fine, the other members of his dorm mate giving him a sense of security. But here, on his own, he was terrified.

He imagined one day waking up to the cramped quarters of the cupboard. He imagined the Dursley's bursting through the door and beating him senseless. The mere thought of it scared him to near death, but he knew it wouldn't happen. He knew he was safe here, but his subconscious did not.

At first he had slept in the girl's bedroom, on the couch, but after his stiff necks in the morning, and Hermione insisting he sleep in his bed, as it would help him in trainings with a proper rest, he had started to sleep in his room.

And that's when the nightmares of time with the Dursley's reached its peak.

As Harry settled down on the average sized bed, he tried to clear his mind and think solely of a happy memory. Many came to mind, such as when he learned his patronus, his first hug, his first kiss, Hermione. And then there was the pressing memory of Sirius asking Harry to live with him. The thought of Sirius caused Harry to pause, and let out a shakey breath.

"It's my fault," Harry murmured, taking off his glasses and placing them on the end table beside his head.

But the darkness took over any thoughts that could prevent his nightmares. Sirius's death clouded his conscious, and the danger of Hermione's parents, as well as the rest of his friends and their families. He knew that it was his fault.

It was always his fault.


	19. Chapter 19

Albus Percival Wolveric Brian Dumbledore was seated in his office, Fawkes just over his shoulder singing a mournful tune. She was about to die soon, Albus knew. She was getting so old.

The red-haired family across from him were in their patched up robes. Molly Weasley, the mother, was fidgeting nervously in her seat. Her hands were worn from years of cleaning and cooking, her face drawn out with worry for her sons and her only daughter in this war.

Arthur Weasley, the father of the family, had on his robes for work, and the small pointed hat atop his balding ginger hair.

"Albus, I don't understand, what do you mean the Potter vault has been closed off?"

Albus sighed and steepled his fingers in front of him, his twinkling blue eyes assesing the parents from behind his halfmoon spectacles, "I mean, Molly, that the Potter vault has been sealed. I can no longer touch it's contents."

"But our payment-" Molly started.

"Now, Molly," Arthur interrupted. "There is plenty for the summer."

Molly shot her husband a glare, "We will not marry Ginny to Harry Potter if she cannot put on a proper wedding! Just think, Arthur, what a disgrace it would be. All of the poparazzi will be there-"

"Perhaps, Mrs. Weasley, we should consider discreetly having the boy give the money to the family himself," Albus suggested.

"Harry would never do that, Albus," Molly insisted. "He's such a selfish boy, not once doing anything himself."

Arthur sighed and shook his head at his wife's behavior, "We have been stealing money from the boy's account for ages, Molly. I think we should just leave him be-"

"No," Molly snapped. "He's marrying Ginny, he owes us for taking our only daughter-"

"Albus, why is the account sealed off?" Arthur interrupted his wife.

"I do not know. I can only guess it has to do with the death of Sirius and the processing of the items left to Harry from his will."

Molly frowned, "I didn't know Sirius left a will behind."

"Yes, and I plan on visiting Privet Drive to deliver the news of the will myself."

"Albus, the boy arrives at the Burrow tomorrow," Arthur stated. "Why not let the news be blown there?"

Albus considered this and nodded in agreement, "That would be wise, yes. Be sure the boy does not find out about the marriage arrangements. Miss Granger will be arriving tomorrow as well, and we do not want her to cause a riot. She has been known to do so with the elf rights just this year alone."

Arthur nodded, "Yes, we'll consider that when pushing the two couples together."

"I have been assured by Harry that him and Miss Granger are not in a relationship, so we need not worry about that," Albus continued. "Be sure that Harry and Ginny are commited by the end of the summer. Do whatever is necessary."

"You can leave that bit to me, Albus," Molly smirked.

A sound of the fire wooshing alerted Hermione of activity in the foyer. She had only just finished taking a shower, and no one visited this Manor, so she didn't expect any Floo calls.

Her wand was instantly in her hand and she was rushing out into the Common Room to see Dorea and Charlus lounging on unseen furniture. And two disoriented Muggles were standing in front of the fire, her boyfriend taking off a traveling cloak and draping it over the back of a chair.

"Harry James Potter," Hermione scolded. "Did you leave?"

"Well, you got a call in the shower," Harry started off, eyeing his girlfriend's wand worriedly. "Your parents were in London... near the Leaky Cauldron."

"Harry!" Hermione smacked his arm as she approached him. "They could have been anyone!"

"I tested it," Harry insisted, he gestured to her parents. "Go on."

"Anyone could have seen you," she continued. "Death Eaters, Order members... You could have been captured!"

"But I was careful," Harry insisted to her. He glanced at the cloak, "I kept my face covered and didn't use my glasses."

"Oh, even better," Hermione said sarcastically. She glanced at her parents, her wand never lowering from them, "What was the last thing you mentioned in the voicemail you left?"

"I wanted you all to be careful," Hermione's mother started. "And I wanted you to know that we wouldn't return home."

Richard looked over his eldest daughter, a faint hint of distaste on his features, "So, baby, huh?"

"Dad," Hermione started.

"Richard, leave her alone," Linda admonished. She stepped forward and touched Hermione's arm before giving the girl a long hug. "It's great to see you, dear. We've been worried, too."

"Come on, let's go get Emma from the kitchens for tea," Hermione insisted, pulling away. She glanced at Harry, but he was already gone and out the door. "Or Harry can."

"What is this place?" her father asked.

"Potter Manor," Hermione told them. "Harry's grandparents live here. This is where we went after the attack on the house."

"It's huge," Mum gasped as they walked towards the sofa's and sat.

"It's centuries old," Hermione told them. "As old as the Potter name, even." She gestured towards the portrait, "These are Harry's grandparents, Dorea and Charlus. They're, um, well, in the portrait."

"Spectacular!" Charlus cried, causing Linda to jump in surprise. "There haven't been Muggles in these walls for centuries! Not since the Black Death in the old days."

"Charlus, do calm down," Dorea admonished. She rose from her seat and stepped closer to her parents, but no closer in person than the edge of the portrait. "It is a pleasure to meet you. And your names?"

"Richard, Linda," Linda murmured, gesturing to her husband, and then herself in turn. "We're Hermione and Emma's parents."

"Oh, we've heard such amazing things about you!" Charlus insisted. "Hermione does love her family, that is for sure."

Richard didn't seem particularly happy with the news, and glanced at his daughter, before the portrait of the elderly couple, "Excuse me, but are you a painting?"

"Quite so, we died a few years ago," Dorea nodded. "Old age... Such a shame, though, a hundred and forty is hardly old."

Linda's eyes bulged, "A hundred and forty?"

"Why, yes, my son, James, Harry's father was born when I was just a hundred and twenty," Dorea nodded. "Such a young age, dear."

"Young?" Richard murmured. "How long do magic folk live for then?"

"Listen to him!" Charlus laughed, "Magic folk. We're witches and wizards, good lad. No need to be polite about it."

"Two hundred years," Dorea answered the question. "That is, if you properly care for yourself."

The door opened to the Common Room and Emma came flying through the room and latched herself onto her mother's legs. "Mummy! Daddy!" She hugged her father's legs fiercely next. Harry stepped through and shut the Common Room door slowly before approaching the family. He awkwardly shifted and Hermione glanced at him before her father.

"Emma, you're alright?" Mum gushed, hugging Emma tightly and spinning around in sheer delight.

"Your dad's going to kill me," Harry whispered to Hermione, his hands in his pockets.

"Just a bit," Hermione admitted, glancing at her father again. Richard was keeping his eyes everywhere but the young couple.

"Not helping," Harry whispered.

"You're leaving tomorrow, it's not like you can exactly die," Hermione pointed out.

"Well, I could," he muttered.

"Come on, we're having tea in the study," Hermione told the crowd, Richard's eyes finally meeting Harry's. "Let's go."

Hermione got them to follow her to the study where they all took their seats.

"Welcome," a new voice spoke. "I understand you're Hermione's parents?"

Hermione started and glanced over her shoulder to the portrait of James and Lily Potter, seated beside the fireplace. It was the first time she had ever really spoken to them, or been near them. They hardly left their portrait. Richard and Lina nodded slowly.

"Oh, we're Harry's parents," Lily smiled. "I'm Lily, this dolt is James."

"Oi!" James cried.

"You've raised a great daughter," Lily complimented them. Hermione blushed slightly and squeezed Harry's hand. "And I have no doubt that your grandchild will be just as lovely as she."

"Ah, yes," Dad said evenly. "Our grandchild."

There was a long silence before Emma spoke up, "I'm so excited! I get to be Auntie Emma!"

Hermione's mother giggled, "You'll be the best Auntie ever, I'm sure of it."

"When are you due?" Dad asked.

Hermione glanced at the Potter parents, and then back at her father, "February. Mid-February."

"We won't know for certain until she's father along," James explained. "Magic only works so well. So in a few weeks we'll have an exact date."

"That's great!" Mum cried.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She was hardly helping the situation. Harry gave Hermione's hand a squeeze before he began to speak, "Sir, I just wanted to apologiz-

"No need," Hermione's dad interrupted. "I'll talk to you alone later."

Harry gulped slightly and Hermione gave a small giggle, hiding it behind her hand, though not very successfully. Richard shot his daughter a look that clearly conveyed he had heard.

"Don't hurt Harry, Daddy," Emma insisted. "He's amazing! He taught me how to tie my shoes!"

Harry blushed, "Uh..."

"Yes, we definitely need to speak," Richard said, standing. "Harry, why don't we take this to another room?"

"Uh, yes, sir," Harry said hesitantly and he stood, letting go of his girlfriend's hand. Hermione gave him an encouraging look as they disappeared behind the study door, but Harry looked insanely nervous.

After they disappeared, there was a long silence that was finally broken as Linda glanced at the portrait of Lily and James. "So, Hermione has told me much about you two. It must be very difficult, being this close to your son-"

"And not being close at all," Lily finished. "Yes, it is. But I'm very grateful to just see how much he has grown."

"He visits us every night after dinner," James informed her. "Tells us anything and everything. Truly, it's as if we never spent a moment apart..."

Lily gave a small smile and glanced at Hermione, "He talks about Hermione all the time. Well, most of the time. He is so in love with you, my dear."

Hermione blushed, glancing at her lap. They hadn't said they loved each other yet, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about Harry, but she knew that she didn't hate him. And she more than liked him.

"He is such a kind young man," Linda insisted. "I haven't known him all but a few weeks, but he is truly a kind fellow. So selfless it's incredible."

"He gets that from his mum," James said proudly. "I couldn't do anything selfless if my life depended on it."

Lily snorted, "Tell me about it."

"When he came to us..." Linda shook her head. "I didn't even think he was alive."

Hermione closed her eyes painfully as she remembered the moment when Harry's body landed on her bedroom floor, "I knew he was alive. He's Harry.. . He doesn't give up."

Lily laughed, "Sounds like someone else I know," she glanced at James. "Isn't that right, dear?"

"What?" he asked. "You dated me in the end."

"You're very lucky I gave you a chance," Lily reminded him.

"I'm grateful every day," James assured her. He glanced at Hermione, "My dear, we hardly ever see you."

"Oh," Hermione said, surprised. "Well.. I'm with Emma... and Harry likes to visit you. I didn't want to intrude-"

"Oh, nonsense!" Lily insisted. "We'd be happy to talk with you!"

"Oh, well, I'll come with next time," Hermione smiled timidly.

Linda noticed her daughter's mood and quickly continued, "How old was Harry when you... well-"

"He was eighteen months," Lily answered.

"So young," Linda observed.

"Yes, it is very unfortunate, but my sister must have raised him... though her husband's methods weren't the best... to a good morale."

"I'd have to agree with that, to some extent," Linda murmured.

Hermione's eyes widened, "He never told you how bad it was, did he?"

James' uncertain face and Lily's suddenly nervous expression made her realize that he hadn't.

"Oh..." Linda murmured. "Perhaps now isn't the time, then."

"Yeah, perhaps not," Hermione agreed faintly.

"Mum... I'm tired... can I go to bed?" Emma's voice sounded.

"Hmm?" Linda said suddenly. "Oh, yes... let's get you to bed. Hermione, dear?"

"Oh, yes, this way," Hermione stood and faced the two parents of her boyfriend. "Sorry for the short chat... But we'll talk soon. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," they replied, and Hermione led her female half of her family to the Common Room for bed.


	20. Chapter 20

Harry Potter had never been given the boyfriend talk. In fact, he had never been given much of any talk – besides what Arthur Weasley had talked to him about back in Fourth Year. But that had just been embarrassing and something that had left Arthur blushing more than Harry had been.

However, the tables seemed to be turned. Harry, blushing madly like a Weasley, was seated on the couch, and Richard, Hermione's father, was seated across from him, on the edge of the bed. Emma's teddybear was in his hands, and he watched as Richard propped it up on his leg, analyzing the boy before him.

"You knocked up my daughter," Richard started.

"I'm very sorry, sir," Harry said hastily. "I never meant for her to be put into more danger-"

"Yes, well, it happened," Richard interrupted. Harry looked up to Hermione's father, and met his eyes.

"I'm truly sorry, sir. I know the timing is, well, it's horrible, to be honest." Harry sighed and shook his head, "I worry about her every day as is."

"I don't know what's going on in your world," Richard said seriously, "but you better not leave her."

"I'd never-" Harry started, but Richard interrupted him once more.

"You may not intentionally, but if you break her heart, I will break you."

Harry swallowed, "I may not even live through the war." He hated to admit it aloud, but the idea was very real right now. "I'm the one he wants-"

"You will, Harry, you will live through this war-"

"But I couldn't," Harry insisted. He met Richard's eyes, no longer blushing at the prospect of anything they could have talked about. "Hermione knows that. She knows it just as much as I do. I can't... My account in Gringotts, it has plenty in there for her and the baby to live comfortably..." Harry paused and glanced at his clasped hands. "I don't know when I'll be able to face him. It could be next week, it could be next year... I just, I want to be able to promise that I'm going to fight for her. I'll try my best to make it through-"

"It's not just Hermione I'm worried about, now," Richard interrupted. He set the bear down and stood, walking towards the boy on the couch, and sat beside him. "I have to worry for you, and Emma, and the baby as well, while you're gone. Emma's already quite attached to you. And the baby needs a father, Harry."

Harry nodded, swallowing, "I can only promise that I'll try my best, sir. The Dark Lord has hundreds, maybe even thousands, on his side. The Order... I don't even know who to trust anymore with them. As far as I know, it's just me, Hermione, and the rest of the people here."

Richard sighed, but seemed to let the information sink in, "I came in here with the full intention of skinning you alive."

Harry snorted, "I think I would have let you, sir."

"Richard, my name is Richard," the older man sighed. "But I'm not going to... One, you realize how serious this is, and you know that it's not some mistake that can be reversed. This is a living person."

"I know that, sir," Harry insisted. "I think about it every waking moment, every sleeping moment as well. Hermione, the baby, and you and Emma, and Linda, are my top priority to keep safe-"

"You just need to worry about Hermione and the baby, the rest of us can protect ourselves."

Harry bit his lip, "What's number two, sir?"

"Sorry?"

"You said one, but what is next?"

"Oh, yes," Richard sighed. He glanced at Harry before looking at the bear on the bed, "Two, if you sleep with my daughter while I'm in the same house... or mansion, as you two, I will make sure you have nothing to sleep with her with."

Harry nodded very seriously, "I won't-"

"And three, if you die in this war," Richard shook his head, "You better go out with a pretty damn good reason."

"Sir-"

"Richard," Richard corrected immediately.

"Richard," Harry ammended. "I don't intend to go anywhere, without putting up a good fight."

Richard grinned, "Now, that's my boy."

Harry swallowed, "Sir, I'm going to be honest, I expected a few shouted words."

"So did I," Richard admitted.

Harry fidgetted nervously in my seat, "You see, sir-uh, Richard, I kind of had a question for you."

"Oh?"

"Yes, um," Harry stood and walked over to where his trunk was laying half open and a few pieces of clothing in the way, "Well, it's sort of a sudden question, but I've known Hermione all my life, and well... I love Hermione, very much, sir-I mean, Richard, and..." Harry withdrew a small box from the folds of his trunk. Sirius had given it to him just that Christmas, and Harry hadn't truly given them much thought. "Well..." he sat back down beside Richard and presented the box. "I know it's very fast, sir, but nothing would truly happen at all until after this year at school in the least-"

"You want to marry my daughter," Richard murmured.

Harry nodded, "I'd be honoured if I could Marry Hermione, s-Richard."

Richard scowled, glancing down at the box before giving Harry a long, calculating look. And this was the first time in a long time that Richard was speechless.


	21. Chapter 21

Hermione paced back and forth in front of Harry and Hermione's quarters, where her father was talking to Harry. Hermione's mother had just read Emma a bedtime story, but Emma refused to sleep until Harry could tell her goodnight. So, defeated, Linda let Emma stay up. Hermione didn't know how her mother had done it, but her parents and Emma would be sleeping in Harry's room, and Hermione and Harry would get their own room. Honestly, she expected a riot after her father was informed.

And then the door swung open, Harry standing there with a small impish grin to his face.

"There you are!" Hermione gasped, tugging his arm. She then shoved him onto the sofa.

"Oi, no need to be forceful," he gasped, rubbing his ribs as a pillow was thrown at him by a giggling Emma.

"Sorry, but, okay... I finished it," Hermione said excitedly.

He raised an eyebrow, and ever confused asked what Hermione was waiting for him to say, "Finished... what?"

"The parchment," Hermione told him simply.

"The what?" Linda asked, confused just by where the whole conversation seemed to be heading towards.

"When Harry's at Hogwarts, we can't communicate much through letters. So... we have this," Hermione pressed a small square of parchment into Harry's hands. "It looks like a regular piece of parchment. However, if I write on my piece-" She grabbed a piece of parchment from beside her that had a more golden hue than any other parchment she had ever had. She then dabbed her quill in the ink, "-And I scribble on it-" She drew 'HI' in bold letters before glancing at Harry. "Your parchment will heat up and you'll see what I wrote. It works the other way, too. You write something and it'll show up on mine."

"So how long until it disappears?" Harry asked, watching as the letters appeared on his own parchment.

Hermione sat down beside her mum, and across from her boyfriend, "That's the thing. You remember Tom Riddle's Diary? How as soon as you read it, it went away?"

"Yes...?" he immediately grew wary. Hermione understood why, and realized she shouldn't have started the question that way. Her father came into the room though, before she could reword it.

"It's just like that," Hermione told him instead. "As soon as you read it, it'll disappear. As soon as I read it, it'll disappear. It's the same thing, really. Only you have Tom Riddle's part, I guess, of the diary."

"Wicked," Harry breathed, flipping the parchment over to see it was completely blank once more.

Hermione smiled, "I thought so, too. It was my main inspiration. And the coins from the DA."

"I figured that when you said heat up. Hermione, you're- you're brilliant," Harry insisted.

Hermione blushed, "Well, really, I just take a logical idea and put it to test. I don't know, really, it's just ideas we've explored befor-"

"But will others be able to read it?" Harry interrupted suddenly. He hastilly continued, "Sorry, but... they could read it too, couldn't they?"

Hermione frowned, "Didn't think about that."

"A code word?" Harry suggested.

"Like... how we'll start the conversation?"

He nodded, "Yeah, and maybe sometimes in the middle?"

"That's a good idea. What should it be?" Hermione asked, completely oblivious to her mum and Emma staring at her. Her father was watching them converse, just trying to abosorb it all in.

"How about... Griffin?"

"No, obvious," Hermione shook her head. "We're Gryffindors... of course it'll be Griffin... What if we did... Godric?"

"Again, obvious," Harry insisted. "Godric Gryffindor was a founder."

"Malfoy?" Hermione suggested.

Harry blinked at his girlfriend, "Hermione... don't ever mention Malfoy-"

"It's unexpected, right?" Hermione interrupted. "No one would ever begin to think that Malfoy's name would be a password."

"Okay, so you're Malfoy..."

"You be..." Hermione trailed off, unsure.

"Lestrange?"

"Harry," she grimaced. "How about we stay away from the crazy prison escapee?"

He bit his lip, concentrating, "Hmm... You're right. What about Parkinson?"

Hermione couldn't help it, and snorted, "Really?"

He nodded, "Absolutely."

"So, I'm Malfoy and you're Parkinson," Hermione said slowly. "I'm not particularly fond of it, but... it'll do."

"Good. So, I need to pack-"

Hermione gave a sheepish smile, "You know I like to pack when I get nervous."

He chuckled, "Then I don't need to pack. Thanks."

"Anytime," she insisted, her cheeks a bright pink.

There was a throat clearing and Charlus appeared by the fireplace portrait. "There is a letter at the window."

Harry pushed himself off the couch, ducking Emma's threatening pillow throw, and opened the window, letting the owl in. It was a small letter, addressed to Harry himself.

"It's from Gringotts," Harry stated, pulling the letter from the leg and giving it a treat before sending it back out.

"What would they want?" Hermione murmured.

"No idea," Harry opened the letter, breaking the seal, and scanned through the contents. "Sirius left a few things in his will..." He trailed off, "It also says that my vault has been sealed off to any trustrees for excessive withdrawals."

"Withdrawals?" Hermione stood and took the letter from him, reading the contents as well, "Who has access to your account?"

"Well, the only person I know of is Hagrid."

Hermione sighed, "Who bought your books third year, Harry?"

"I did," he insisted.

"No, Mrs. Weasley used your key to get into your vault, remember? She said she was going to buy you your things while you shopped around."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I remember that-"

"So, she and Hagrid have access to your vault," Hermione told him. "And you, Harry, are being stolen from." She glanced at the letter once more and read the contents in more detail, "It says that Sirius's items will be discussed at the Burrow... When are you supposed to arrive?"

"Around eight," Harry admitted.

"Too early... it'd be too suspicious for you to show up earlier than you normally rise," Hermione thought of all the possiblities. "Tonight, I think, would be better for you to leave."

"Why?" Linda asked.

"She's right," Harry nodded.

Hermione continued, "Because Harry will have a temper tantrum before dinner-"

"Hey!" Harry cried. "I do not-"

"And then he takes the Knight Bus to the Weasley's, saying that it was the safest route to the Burrow since Death Eaters are watching the Floo's and keeping track of under aged apparation," Hermione finished the story. She shot Harry a look, "Does that work, toddler?"

"Oi, I'm not a toddler," he insisted, but sighed, as he slowly got it, "So they'll have no reason to question my motives."

Hermione took a deep breath, "We only have one problem."

"It sounds solid to me," Mum insisted.

"She's right," Harry sighed. "They'd question Stan... and they'd know I didn't get on at the Dursley's. So I have to take a portkey there..."

Hermione glanced at Charlus in the portrait, "Is there another way?"

"Dumbledore has spies everywhere. Port-key's safest.. undetectable."

"A port what?" Richard asked.

"I'll explain later," Hermione told him. "Um, I'll make the port-key."

Hermione flew from the room and into Harry and her's bedroom. She grabbed her charm bracelet and took off a small charm. A book.

She waved her wand around it, muttering, "Portus."

Sighing in relief when it glowed blue, she grabbed Harry's bag and dragged it out to the living room. Harry took the object before looking at his girlfriend.

"Now?"

Charlus nodded, "Now's best. It's nearly after dinner time. You'll get to the Burrow for dinner, according to the usual Knight Bus trip times."

Harry glanced at Hermione, grimacing, "Oh."

She sighed quietly, hugging him tightly, "I'm sorry."

He pulled away after a moment and kissed her gently, not caring that her parents were watching, just as Hermione put the portkey into his hand. "I love you," he whispered to her as he pulled away.

Her eyes widened in surprise, barely registering the object he was pressing back into her own hands. "I-I love you, too, Harry."

He gave his girlfriend a small smile of happiness, before turning to Emma, giving her a tight hug. "Be sure you get a good night sleep, alright? And stop asking the house elves for cookies. I already told them they can't give you anymore."

"But that's what you said last night!" Emma giggled.

Harry ruffled her hair as he pulled away, "I mean it this time."

"You said that last time too," Emma reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, I did," Harry grinned.

"Be careful, son," Charlus told him from the portrait.

"No promises, tell my parents I said goodbye for me, and Grandma..." Harry retorted, smirking. He turned towards the Granger parents, "And be-" but he disappeared in a flash of bright blue before he could finish, small bag of his items with him.

Hermione sighed quietly and clenched her hands together, trying to cope with the idea of not seeing Harry for another nine months. Afterall, they hadn't been seperated for more than two since they were eleven. Looking down, she realized that he had handed her a box. A box... A small square, velvet box.


	22. Chapter 22

"Oh, my," her mother gasped.

Hermione let out a breath of surprise as she opened it. A small note was on top, in Harry's sloppy hand writing. 'I love you. Marry me?' She slowly moved the torn parchment and a beautiful ring sat in the soft fabric. The diamond was... huge. Hermione didn't know any other way to describe it. The silver ring was carved into and diamonds were inset on every inch. It was... breathtaking.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief and pulled the precious diamond out of the box, slowly sliding it onto her finger.

"My little girl's getting married!" Linda cried, hugging her eldest tightly.

Hermione gave a breathy laugh of disbelief as she gazed at the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly.

"I see he finally asked you."

"You could say that," Hermione snorted, turning to look... She spotted her father at the door, him having spoken. He knew?

"Now, that doesn't mean you have to get married right away," Richard warned.

"Um... alright," Hermione said slowly, but she couldn't help the grin that was plastered on her face. Her fingers clasped around the golden piece of parchment and she wrote one simple sentence.

Malfoy, and your answer's yes.

She slowly watched it fade away and grinned as she got a hasty reply, the letters smeared where the Knight Bus had no doubt jostled him. Really? Oh, and Parkinson.

She just wrote a smiley face that said it all and gave a small squeal before engulfing her mother into another hug of pure joy.

It was a week into Harry's absence when Hermione received her first owl from Harry. It was a Prophet article pinned to a piece of parchment.

Hermione grimaced as she opened it, Emma resting against Hermione's side, Linda and Richard across from them both. They were having a family meeting, discussing the baby.

The article read in bold, large words, "HERMIONE GRANGER, MISSING!"

Hermione spread it out on the table in front of her, "Alright, listen to this," she interrupted whatever her dad was saying, "Hermione Granger, aged sixteen, has gone missing! That's right! While printing stories earlier in the week, an anonymous letter came via a black hawk. As people know, the black hawk symbolizes the dark side and are often known notoriously as the Death Eater's messenger birds. The letter said that Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has been kidnapped! Aurors were put on duty immediately and found the Granger's Muggle home in Oxfordshire to be completely destroyed. Pictures, furnature, and clothing were thrown about rooms and hallways. Aurors also report that the Dark Mark was floating above the home.

"Hermione Granger is a high profile citizen and if found, no questions will be asked and a hefty prize of one million galleons will be the reward - a prize offered by the Minister of Magic himself!" Hermione continued. This was simply horrifically detailed. "Hermione Jean Granger, sixteen, is around the height of 1.5 metres, has curly brown hair, and brown eyes. She has a fair palour and slight freckles under her eyes." Hermione stopped reading and frowned, "I do not! Do I?"

"Just a bit, dear," Linda said gently. "Keep reading."

"Hermione Granger, also known to be engaged to Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter's other best friend, is going to be the most world-renown cases of kidnapping. Leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore, recently gave the statement, saying 'If we find Miss Granger, those that hold her prisoner will pay the price.'

"Harry Potter, who was available for questioning, told the Prophet, 'We're going to find her. I don't care if we have to knock out fifty Death Eaters. She's coming back to us.' Harry's words are inspiring. He sounds so sure. When, that is... if they find her, the Death Eaters are going to have a force to reckon with. Stay safe, Hermione. We're looking for you. As some of you may remember, Hermione Granger's conquests in her fourth year..." Hermione trailed of, giving a sheepish smile. "Right. Not important."

"Finish reading," her father said evenly.

Hermione gave a nervous laugh and continued. "Bulgarian seeker, the heart-throb bon-bon, Viktor Krum is currently traveling through Italy and Greece. The Bulgarian Quidittch team has not yet lost a game this season. Will heartbroken Viktor become distracted when he finds out the news? Harry Potter, Hermione Granger's ex after Viktor Krum, seems to be best friends still and no strained relationship," she rolled her eyes. "They honestly could have gotten the facts right. Viktor and I are, and were, just friends. Harry and I never dated in fourth year."

"Who's this Viktor?" Richard asked.

"Remember when I told you about the Triwizard Tournament?" Hermione asked them.

Hermione's mother blinked, "No..."

The older sibling hesitated, "Okay, maybe I should just tell you everything from the beginning... Emma, why don't you go find Porter and have a tea time?"

"Oh, yay!" Emma cried, lauching off the couch and running to her and Hermione's bedroom - since she was sharing with Hermione now - and calling Porter's name.

"So, the beginning," her father urged as Hermione relaxed on the couch.

And so Hermione told them everything. From the first war, to James and Lily's death, to Harry getting put into the Dursley's care. And then she told them all about Quirrel, Lockhart - from what she knew, anyway - and then Lupin. They seemed interested in him, and Hermione happily told them all about the werewolves and whatever they wanted to know. Mad-Eye and the Triwizard Tournament took some time to explain, as Hermione had to back it up with Neville's past. The Dark Lord's return. The entire fiasco with Harry going to trial - to which Richard grumbled - and then the Battle of Mysteries.

"His godfather died, right there in front of him?" Richard asked slowly.

Hermione nodded, "Sirius... he was a great man. Harry considered him a father. Harry was supposed to stay with him over the summer, now that he had gotten ahold of Headquarters... things would have been... different than they are now if that had happened."

"You wouldn't be pregnant for one," Richard said shortly.

Hermione sighed, "I'm sorry... I really am. But I don't regret anything. I love Harry... and I love this baby. And I don't want to even think about none of it happening because I wouldn't be here right now."

"It is far too dangerous in the magical world, Hermione," Mum gasped. "With the war, and the baby, and Harry being the main target-"

"I know, but I don't care. Harry's my life now. The wizarding world is my world... I belong there. Here," she told them quietly.

"You're a Muggle, Hermione," Richard told her.

"I'm a witch too," Hermione said simply. "Always have been. This is my world now, this is what war I have to help end. And the Death Eater's and you-know-who have to fall in order for both worlds to be safe."

"And if Harry fails?" Richard asked.

Hermione swallowed, wincing, "He, uh... you-know-who would take over the Wizarding World, kill all Muggleborns, and anyone that doesn't follow him. He'd go to the Muggle world and make Muggle's his slaves. He'd kill... torture... you wouldn't last five minutes with him, especially with your connection with me."

"That's why he attacked the house," Linda said slowly. "Because he knew where you lived."

Hermione nodded, "It's not safe in the Muggle world just as it isn't here."

"I forbid you-"

Hermione cut her dad off, "You can't stop me."

Richard sighed, shaking his head, "What do you need to do?"

"Help Harry as much as I can," Hermione told them. "With whatever I can."

"We'll help you, dear," Linda said. "Now, what to start with first?"

Hermione shrugged and looked over the article before flipping the parchment over. Harry's handwriting was scribbled along it in a quick flurry. He must have been in a hurry.

"I don't have much time," I read quietly. "Ron hasn't said a word about you, nor has any other of the Weasley's. Fred and George seem concerned, as did Bill, when I got in that night. Plan went perfectly. I think we can trust the twins and Bill... Love you, Harry."

"Bill? Fred and George?" her dad asked. "More boyfriends?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Bill is Ron's eldest brother. He's dating Fleur Delacour, a girl from France that competed in the Triwizard Tournament. I told you about her. And the twins? I can hardly stand them. They own a joke shop in Diagon Alley, at least, that was the plan. I don't know if they followed through with it. They're two years older than Harry and I."

"You can't stand them, and yet here Harry is saying trust them?" her mother asked slowly.

Hermione eyes widened as she quickly corrected herself, "No! I mean, they're annoying big brothers... they're really kind, they just... like having too much fun."

"I see," her father said, obviously not pleased.


	23. Chapter 23

It was a month until Christmas when the fire in Hermione's room sputtered. She jostled a bit in her sleep at the noise of the hiss, and pulled her blanket a bit from her face, letting the cool air rush against her skin. Another hiss sounded, and Hermione's eyes shot open, but she did not move. Partially due to her fear of who was in her room, and another part due to the fact that Emma was pressed against Hermione's back.

"Hermione!" a voice whispered.

But that voice got Hermione to her feet faster than she had all week, "Harry?"

"Parkinson."

Hermione giggled, making sure Emma was still asleep, before dropping to her knees in front of the fireplace, "Malfoy. What are you doing? You're going to get caught!"

His face appeared then, the color of flames, and just as lively. "I'm in the Room of Requirement. I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner."

Hermione smiled at him, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," he admitted.

She held up her left hand, "Did you really mean it?"

"With all my heart," he nodded, at once. "I love you, Hermione."

Her heart swelled and she felt her eyes tear up, "I love you, too, Harry."

"Hey, don't cry! Things are great here! Well... Ginny tried to love potion me, I think, at the Slug Club..." At Hermione's confused look, he elaborated, "That's the new potion teacher's Club. And Snape's Defense teacher. Well, yeah, that's the only thing that's really gone bad, but there's nothing to cry about-"

"I'm not crying. It's these stupid hormones," Hermione insisted, rubbing her eyes, frowning.

He chuckled, "I doubt you'd let hormones get to you."

"I'm not as tough as you," she remarked. She dried her hands on her pajama bottoms and met his eyes, "It's so good to hear your voice."

"Yours, too, so much has happened."

"Do you have time to tell me?" Hermione asked hopefully.

He glanced over his shoulder, as if he was looking at a clock, and nodded, "Yeah, I have about an hour until curfew."

"How are you able to get away for so long?"

"I'll get to that," Harry admitted. He seemed to settle down, crossing his legs, and Hermione did the same. "So, Dumbledore's been giving me private lessons-"

"Private lessons?"

"Occulmency," Harry said.

Hermione frowned, "Do you think he's trying to access your mind? Do you think he's suspicious?"

"Couldn't be. The plan was perfect. I even got a good solid bruise on my arm from the Knight Bus that I played off as Dudley's hand print," Harry admitted.

"Oh, well... that's good then."

"Yeah, so he's been giving me these lessons and I think he wants me to get a certain memory from Slughorn?"

"Slughorn? Why would he have you do that?" Hermione insisted. "That's super dangerous- especially a fully grown wizard-"

"No idea, but it has to do with defeating Vol-you-know-who," Harry corrected immediately. "Sorry, I know your sister's probably in the room with you."

Hermione gave him an encouraging smile, "It's fine. And she is, but do continue."

"Well, I think it's related to him... when he was our age, I mean. It's odd... I don't quite know for sure, Dumbledore won't tell me."

"What do you mean he won't tell you? He-?"

"No," Harry interrupted. "He doesn't think it's important. I don't know why, exactly. Anything to defeat you-know-who with is important?"

"Well, maybe not to Dumbledore... Harry, you must be careful."

"And so must you."

"I'm safe here," Hermione insisted. "The Manor hasn't been touched in fifteen years."

"And what if it is one day?"

"I can get everyone out," Hermione assured him. "I have an emergency portkey."

Harry closed his eyes as he sighed, "I worry constantly."

"Don't," Hermione sighed back. "We're fine. You need to worry about yourself. There isn't anything you can do from Hogwarts. And besides, I'm missing. Not even the Death Eaters know where I am."

He agreed, "I just wish we could talk more."

"Me too... Did you ever find out what Gringotts wanted?"

"Hmm? Oh... Well, I've been left with Grimmauld Place, Kreature, and some of Sirius's money."

"That's great," I insisted.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "So, I get that. And when Dumbledore talked to me it was about my vault too... We went to Gringotts and I talked to Griphook-"

"And?" Hermione pressed.

"Well, a lot of my money has been going missing," Harry admitted. "Not a lot, just enough for it to be noticeable."

Hermione sighed, "How much, Harry? I don't need a specific amount, but a fraction?"

"Fifty thousand galleons," Harry admitted. "Not much, I suppose-"

Hermione's eyes widened, "Harry! That's a lot-"

"Well, it's over the course of five years, so it's about ten thousand galleons a year."

"Still!" Hermione noticed he seemed uncomfortable to changed the subject, but fully intended to revisit the subject when they could talk in person. "The search. Have they told you anything?"

"You're still searching as much as I know. Apparently, I'm not allowed to be told anything because it might endanger my mindset from defeating Voldemort," Harry said the last part bitterly.

Hermione began to protest, "But-That's not fair! You deserve to know! You're Harry Potter, they keep war secrets from you?"

"Try telling that to the Order," Harry insisted. "They don't listen."

Hermione bit her lip, "Well, you only have a few more months until you can leave. I mean... not too long-"

"How am I going to get home this summer though?" Harry asked. "We haven't even thought that far. Vernon and Petunia can't pick me up-"

"I've been thinking of a plan," Hermione told Harry. "What if my parents polyjuiced into your Aunt and Uncle? And they picked you up? Then you can get in the car with them, go to a Muggle shop, and disapparate?"

"Too many rough edges... And I wouldn't be able to apparate until next year... I'll think some more and report back to you, boss."

Hermione giggled at his silliness, "Roger that."

"But... how are you?" Harry asked quietly.

"Besides a raging hormone machine?" Harry laughed before Hermione could continue. "I'm huge, I eat the weirdest foods, and I don't fit in anything I own."

"I'm sure you're beautiful," Harry insisted.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Do you see me, Harry?"

"Yes. You look tired, but otherwise perfectly dashing."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, "Harry, didn't you ever get told lying made your nose grow?"

"Did my Mum give you a date yet?"

Hermione nodded, "February fourth. But she thinks I might go into labor early because of how big I'm getting." Hermione glanced down at her stomach, one hand rubbing the slightly swollen belly. "I'm honestly surprised at how fast time has flown."

He let out a breath, "This is really real, isn't it?"

Hermione smirked, "Cold feet?"

"More like a heart attack," Harry joked.

Hermione gave a laugh, "As long as you don't die on me."

He laughed as well, "I won't. At least, I'll try not to."

Try not too. It reminded Hermione of the war that was raging outside of the very walls she sat in. She felt her smile drop slightly, "You get the Prophet, right?" At his nod, Hermione continued. "Have you read anything interesting?"

"Other than the fact Viktor lost his first match of the season because you've gone missing?" Harry joked lightly. Hermione felt her eyes widen in horror.

"What?"

"I'm kidding!" Harry insisted. "No, nothing like that. A few Aurors have gone missing, no one I knew. The Order is still doing what it does."

"And school?"

"It's..." he struggled for the words. "Different without you. I've actually done my homework, and Dumbledore's lessons."

"He shouldn't ask you to do his dirty work," Hermione insisted.

"Well, I'm getting close to getting it. Malfoy's up to something. He's ill, it looks like. Katie got cursed a few days ago, and as soon as I looked at him... he paled and left the Great Hall. He had to be behind it, Hermione-" Harry started to rant, but Hermione interrupted him before he could get all riled up.

"Do you think... he's turned Death Eater?"

"Must have," Harry insisted.

"But shouldn't he be happy?" Hermione continued. "Like... arrogant still. He doesn't seem - by the way you described him, at least - that he's like usual."

"He's... never antagonized me besides the first day..." he winced at the admission. "I spied on him and his friends on the train. And he caught me."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped.

"He only broke my nose," Harry insisted.

"You could have had worse," Hermione scolded. "What were you thinking?"

"He was at a Death Eater initiation in Diagon Alley, Hermione, I know it," Harry told her passionately. "A load of Death Eaters were there. And I'm telling you, he's up to something. He's cursing people-"

"Harry, does he seem ill or scared?" Hermione asked, interrupting him.

Harry stopped, mid-rant, and narrowed his eyes, "Don't you dare take his side, Hermione."

"I'm not," Hermione insisted. "I'm just saying... either he's ill with the dragon pox - of which you're going to be sick soon - or... he's a Death Eater and scared out of his mind."

"He has nothing to be scared of but the Order."

Hermione bit her lip as she thought it over, "You're right... but something's not right, Harry. Just be careful."

"I will be," he insisted. He jumped suddenly and Hermione watched him glance over his shoulder. "It's getting late. I'm going to miss dinner." He glanced at her, and his orange and yellow eyes met her brown. "Be careful."

"You need it more than I," Hermione smiled softly.

He chuckled, "I love you, Hermione."

A bright smile lit up her face, "I love you, too, Harry." Hermione grabbed the top of the mantle and pulled myself up just as Harry disappeared into the flames. She grabbed a bucket of water that she always kept beside the fireplace and put the fire out. She knew it was a special connection, but she was taking no risks.

"Hermione, dear, I could hear you talking. Is everything alright?" Hermione heard a voice ask.

She glanced at the door to see her mother. Hermione smiled softly, nodding, "Yeah..." Her hand went to the swell of her stomach. "Everything's perfect. Go back to bed, it's late-"

"Were you talking to Harry?" Linda guessed.

Hermione nodded, "Yeah... He found a secure connection to talk to me."

"Just, don't stay up too late," Linda warned, but smiled as she turned to leave.

Hermione frowned when she disappeared. Everything wasn't perfect. The Order was being sure not to tell Harry things, which meant that they were suspicious... Suspicious or stupid. And the war was getting closer. Hermione just wished she could talk to Harry more in depth than that quick fireside chat. She needed to know what was going on.

She sank back down into the bed, careful not to wake Emma, and tried to get some sleep, but it was very hard to come by.


	24. Chapter 24

Christmas time was always cheerful for Hermione. The two Potter generations were gathered with the two Granger generations, and hot cocoa was passed around as they sat in the drawing room.

"Mistress Granger, there is a visitor in the Drawing Room," Porter interrupted a story of Christmas at Hogwarts Hermione was telling. She frowned, confused as to who it would be.

"Did they ask for me?" Hermione asked the small elf.

"No, Miss, they usually do not even stop through the foyer in their visit," Porter answered. He bowed his head, "But I was ordered to notify you of all that arrive-"

"Oh, yes, thank you," Hermione stood, waving off her father's helping arm. She grabbed her wand an gestured for the elf to lead the way, "Can you show me where they went? I'd like to see who it is."

"Of course, Miss... Though it is dangerous to be wandering the house tonight."

"It's hardly even sunset," Hermione insisted.

"Should I go with you?" Richard asked.

"No, no," Hermione insisted once more, "I'll be fine." She gestured again in front of her, "Lead the way, please, Porter?"

"Of course, Mistress Granger," Porter nodded.

"Hermione," Hermione reminded the creature.

They walked down the stairs and down the halls until they reached the foyer. And Hermione spotted her intruder hanging up his cloak on one of the many hooks.

"Professor Lupin?" Hermione said in surprise, before she could stop herself.

The figure spun around, and a wand with a glowing tip was pointed at her forehead. "Hermione?"

"Sir, what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Remus Lupin returned. He looked her over, "You've been missing for months-"

"I..." Hermione hesitated. "It's a long story, but I'm not going back to Hogwarts... I guess, I sort of dropped out?"

"What was the creature that saved you in the woods in third year?"

"A hippogriff," Hermione said immediately. "And what was the thing that was chasing us?"

"A werewolf," Remus returned. He lowered his wand and Hermione lowered hers. She hadn't even noticed she had raised it. "Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"I... well, it's a long story."

"The Order's been looking for you-"

"I find that hard to believe because Harry's been given no information-"

"Harry knows where you are?" Remus insisted. "He could have-"

"I wrote that letter to the Prophet," Hermione interrupted. "I told Harry I wasn't going back. I can't... and with what Ron said in the Prophet, well, there are a lot of lies that seem to be surrounding the Order."

Remus winced, "He thought it would help for when you do get married-"

"I'm not marrying Ronald Weasley!" Hermione groaned, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. "I can barely even stand him! No offense, Professor, but I don't think I'll marry him ever."

"Sorry, I just... So, you're hiding at Potter Manor?"

"Well, the Death Eaters attacked my home," Hermione said. "Um... my family is here as well... Bellatrix attacked my little sister and I just... I knocked her out, grabbed Emma, and got Harry, and we apparated to the woods."

He frowned, "Harry was with you?"

"Uh..." Hermione gave an awkward laugh. "Right... and why are you here, Professor?"

"Wait, Harry wasn't at Privet Drive?" Remus diverted the question. "Why-"

Hermione interrupted him, "He accidentally apparated. Sir, you're avoiding my question."

"The place I usually go to for my transformations has had a few issues tonight, so I came here... It usually is not occupied, but I can see it is, and I should probably-"

"No, nonsense," Hermione insisted. "You've taken a wolfsbane potion, correct?"

"Every month," Remus nodded.

Hermione bit her lip, "This place is massive. You'll be alright, I think. You can join my family for Christmas, if you'd like. You shouldn't just spend it all cooped up in a dusty old room."

Remus glanced at the windows, which revealed the sun still up, "I suppose I have a minute."

Hermione gestured for him to follow her and they began to walk up the stairs, "It's so great to see you! Lily and James have been telling me all about your schooling days and they're all the wizard contact I've really had for months, besides Dorea and Charlus." Hermione gave Remus an apologetic smile, "Sorry, I'm rambling."

Remus narrowed his eyes, "Wait... Harry sent me a package... Well, he said if I went to Potter Manor, to drop something off. I had no idea why, but he said if anyone intercepted me to tell them something about Parkinson. But I don't know what she has to do with-"

"Oh, it's just a little experiment," I insisted. "Harmless."

He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small package, "He said Happy Christmas as well."

"Oh, thank you!" Hermione took the small gift, and found it was not even the size of her hand. "Did he say what it was?"

"Not even a hint."

She slid it into her fuzzy robe and tucked her wand in as well, "Well, I'll just have to wait to open it then. How long will you be staying for?"

"Just until tomorrow morning," Remus answered. "I don't want to stay long."

"Oh, well, you should have breakfast with us," Hermione insisted. "We'd be happy to have you."

"That would be lovely," Remus admitted. He brushed out his cloak, "The Order will be so happy to know you're alive-"

"You can't tell them," Hermione rushed out. "They can't know."

"But-"

"If you tell them, they'll find me and they can't find me. News can't get out until after this year."

"But why?" Remus insisted. "You're safe-"

"The Order isn't searching for me, and that's fine. Declare me dead, do whatever, but word cannot get out-"

"The Death Eaters haven't had you all this time... but they acted like they did," Remus murmured. "Merlin, we were all fooled then..."

"Sorry," Hermione murmured. She reached the Common Room door and swung it open. "Mum, Dad, Emma, this is Professor Lupin. Professor, these are my parents, Richard and Linda, and my sister, Emma. Uh, Professor Lupin will be visiting for an hour or so before the sun sets."

"Oh, stay longer, please," Linda insisted. She gave Remus a bright smile and gestured for him to sit. "We'd love to hear all about Hogwarts."

"I really can't," Remus apologized, but sat anyway.

"Professor Lupin is a werewolf, and tonight's a full moon," Hermione said hopefully, sitting down in an oversized chair. She grabbed her hot cocoa mug and before she could say anything, a mug was presented to Remus as well. He eyed it with respect as he smelled the chocolate.

"A werewolf?" Richard asked.

"Yes, since I was a child," Remus nodded slowly, sipping the hot liquid.

"Well, that is very intriguing!" Linda insisted.

"We were just discussing the Order," Hermione supplied. "They're doing quite well in the war."

"Yes, and we've lost many members," Remus admitted. "The Death Eaters are getting remarkably strong." He set the mug down on his knee as he leaned back. "I'm afraid there's only so much longer we can hold out."

"Forgive me, but... the Order... That's the organization that you said you didn't trust, right, Hermione?"

Hermione grimmaced as Remus gave her a quisitive look. "Well, things have been said that aren't very accurate, and publically stated. Like the me and Ron getting married thing... and Harry's money's been getting stolen-"

"Stolen?!" Remus and Richard exclaimed.

"He promised it wasn't a lot..." Hermione rolled her eyes, "It really is a lot though. He doesn't know who, but his account has been frozen... Gringotts apologized for it and will look into it-"

"But who would steal his money?"

Hermione shook her head, "Harry said the only people with access, other than himself, is Hagrid and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."

"But they'd never do that," Remus insisted. "Hagrid and Harry are the most loyal friends I've met. And Mr. and Mrs. Weasley love Harry like a son."

"Someone has been taking money," Hermione insisted. "We just don't know who."

Remus sipped his cocoa and sighed, "I'll keep a look out as well. That is unacceptable... I have no idea who would be able to get away with it."

Hermione sighed and tucked a foot underneath her. She glanced down, adjusting her robes, and jumped at the sound of a teacup falling to the ground. Remus was staring wide-eyed at the teen. "You're..."

"Alive?" Hermione tried. "We've been over this-"

"Pregnant!" Remus interrupted. "Hermione, since when-"

"Oh, this summer," Hermione winced. "The, uh, main reason I'm not going to Hogwarts this year."

"How far along?" Remus gasped. "Hermione, who in the world is the father? I didn't even know you were dating anyone!"

"She wasn't," Richard muttered. "Believe me, I found out through an electronic device."

"Let's all please just calm down," Hermione insisted. "I'm sixish months. Due in February... and Harry's the father... We, uh, kinda wanted to keep a secret. The Death Eaters and stuff, you know... it's too dangerous-"

"Dangerous?" Remus cried. "Hermione, he's the Boy-Who-Lived, and you... Merlin, you're trying to get yourself killed."

"Not trying," Hermione insisted. "It wasn't supposed to happen, but it did... and so I'm handling it the best way the situation would allow."

Remus just stared at her in disbelief, "Hermione... You're the last person I would have expected this from."

"Yes, well, you also have to grant I could be the first, as well. Always getting into trouble," Hermione managed to laugh weakly.

Remus smirked, "Hardly a Miss Brown, Ms. Granger."

Hermione blushed, "Fair point."

Remus shook his head, "Already, another generation of the Marauder's... How does Harry feel about it?"

"Harry is... well," Hermione hesitated as she tried to decide on a word. "Wary and worried."

"Describes him on every other day of the week, I'd say," Remus input.

A clock chimed, cutting off what Hermione was beginning to say, and Remus hopped to his feet. He waved his wand around the broken cup, fixing it, before giving a polite nod to everyone. "I really must get set up... Happy Christmas and thanks for the small chat."

"Be sure to meet us for breakfast, Professor," Hermione insisted, setting her cup down as she prepared to stand.

"No need to stand, Hermione. And how many times must I tell you? It's Remus. I'm not your professor anymore," the professor nodded to her. "It was lovely meeting you."

"Excuse me," a small voice said. Emma climbed over the back of the sofa and stared at him as he stopped from heading towards the door. "Do you turn into a giant dog?"

Remus laughed at the unexpected question, "No, it's rather unexciting and hardly like a dog at all."

"Oh," Emma frowned. "Because that would be really cool."

Remus gave her a smile, "Yes, it would be, wouldn't it?"

Emma's eyes got big and she gave Remus a bright smile, "Wait, do you bark?"

Remus laughed once more, but shook his head, "No, but I do howl."

"That's so cool!" Emma cried.

Remus bid his goodbyes once more and then disappeared down the hallway.

"He's a kind man," Linda said after a moment of silence.

"Yes, he was the best teacher I've ever had," Hermione admitted. "Honestly, he's been like a father to Harry, especially before Sirius escaped prison." Hermione gave a small shake of her head, "It's late, I should get to bed."

"If you're sure, dear."

Hermione nodded and hoisted herself out of the chair. "Goodnight... Happy Christmas."

"Can I sleep with Mum tonight?" Emma asked.

Richard and Linda glanced at each other, but nodded, "Of course."

Hermione let out a silent relieved breath as she shut her bedroom door behind her, pulling the package Remus had given her from her robe. A she sat down on the bed, she tore into the plain parchment paper – he obviously didn't wrap it very well.

It was a flat object on the inside, and shiny. Upon further inspection, she discovered it was a mirror... a very specific mirror. She recognized it instantly, then, and ran her fingers along the edge of the decorative frame.

Only one name came to mind and she spoke it clearly, "Harry Potter."


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione had three books gathered around her as she munched on some buttered toast. They were all opened to various pages, and the quill she was writing with was moving in a blur.

The door opened, but she did not look up. She was too busy taking notes on the fundamental theory of magic to care who entered.

"Still studious, I see."

"Good morning, Professor," Hermione said absently. "How was the night?"

"I slept mostly. That is a bonus to having taken the potion," Remus remarked, sitting across from her. "And what are you reading about?"

"Newt things," Hermione murmured. She set down her quill and gave Remus a tired smile, "You look like you haven't slept a wink, sir."

"Remus," he corrected. "And I have. The transformations have more wear on my body the older I get."

"Oh, well you should have some breakfast," Hermione insisted. Without even asking, the elves were already rushing about and placing a warm breakfast before Remus.

"Why are you up this early?"

"Can't sleep," Hermione admitted. "Usually, I'm in the library. But I believe my parents have set up elves to make sure I don't go in there... Porter retrieves the books I'd like to read for me."

Remus laughed, "You condemn the poor elf."

"It's not like its slavery. I pay him," Hermione insisted. "Extra than his normal wages."

Remus gave a small smile, "Of course."

Hermione glanced at the books before her, "Um, how is everything?"

Remus shrugged, "The same, I suppose. The Burrow burnt down a few days ago."

Hermione eyes widened in surprise, "Is everyone alright?"

Remus nodded, "Yeah, we got out in time. The Burrow was lost. Everyone's at Grimmauld Place for the rest of break."

Hermione's gave a breath of relief, "That's good." Hermione knew that the Weasley's or someone in the Order couldn't be trusted, but she still did not wish any harm or death upon them. "Who... who was it?"

"Bellatrix and Greyback," Remus sighed.

Hermione's eyes widened, "Oh my Merlin!"

"We're fine," he insisted. "There was a little scuffle-"

"Define scuffle."

"Harry being Harry ran after Bellatrix after she began to taunt him about Sirius..." He struggled a bit with the next part as Hermione sat up straight, listening to his every word. "Ginny ran after him." A small frown tainted her lips at that. "Arthur and I ran after them once we got the fire around the house out. Dora, too. Molly was devastated."

"I'm sure," Hermione sympathized. "And they just left?"

"After the damage was done, yes. They left."

Hermione sighed, "As long as they're alright."

Remus nodded, his gaze traveling to her books, "Do you plan on sitting for NEWTs?"

"If I can," Hermione nodded. "But it's not a top priority for me anymore."

"No, of course not," Remus agreed.

"Remus, you can't tell anyone I'm here," Hermione said firmly. "Not even Tonks, or Dumbledore."

He nodded, "I understand."

"Something's not right with them," Hermione felt the need to continue. "With the lies in the Prophet about me marrying Ron, and Harry Ginny, and the money thing... And how my search hasn't been big news for anyone. Harry hasn't heard much at all, and... I just don't know right now if I should trust them."

"And yet you tell me these things."

"I trust you," Hermione insisted. "I just hope it won't be in vain."

"Of course not," he insisted. "I'd never do that."

Hermione nodded and took a small bite of her toast, "That's why I trust you, Professor."

He sent her a relaxed smile and took a bite of his own breakfast, "And I you. You will be careful?"

"Of course," Hermione sighed. "We're safe here... at least for a while... I don't know how we'll get Harry back here, but... but we will somehow."

"Perhaps I can help with that," Remus offered. "The night of the arrival in Kings Cross also happens to be the night of the full moon."

"So you can bring him here?"

He nodded, "That is, if I am allowed."

"If not, my parents can do something," Hermione insisted. "Or I can-"

"And you won't be able to get back into the house," Remus reminded her. "Not if your plan fails. So, it think it best to rely on outside help."

"True," she agreed. "Just... make sure that Harry's alright, okay? I worry constantly."

"I will..." he glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "I should take my leave. Any messages I should pass onto him?"

Hermione gave a small smile, "I talked to him last night... With Sirius's two way mirror... No need to pass on a message."

"How clever," Remus laughed. "I wondered where those went."

He stood, brushing his trousers of crumbs, before Hermione got to her feet. She gave him a polite hug.

"Have you any names?"

Hermione blushed slightly, "James if it's a boy, Lily for a girl."

"Yikes, another generation of those two? You don't know what you're thinking," he insisted.

"So I've been told," she giggled.

"Goodbye, Hermione. Take care of yourself."

"And you, Professor. Goodbye," Hermione insisted.

He disappeared down the hall once more, this time leaving the Manor for good.


	26. Chapter 26

Christmas came and went as the snow started to thin out. Hermione Granger stood at the balcony of the attached terrace. It was the little bit of fresh air she could get. A cloak was wrapped tightly around her, and her stomach the largest yet, she gazed at the garden below that seemed to go on for miles. Hermione's mother declared her eldest daughter due soon. Apparently, Hermione was born early, as was Emma. It was in the Granger genes.

Hermione sincerely hoped not. She was freaking out. She had read all the pregnancy books in the library fifteen times, even taken notes. She had quizzed herself on them every night for the past three months, but the truth was, she knew nothing. She, Hermione Granger, knew nothing about ... about any of this motherhood stuff. That's why she was sitting in a chair facing the snowy beyond and wiping tears from her eyes.

"Hermione?" a quiet voice said quietly from behind her.

"Hey, Emma," Hermione said in a false cheery voice. "What's going on?"

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, appearing to her sister's side, watching the older girl curioiusly.

Hermione smiled at her five year old sister, "Just fine."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because... I'm just really sad," Hermione said as a way of explanation.

"Why?" Emma asked innocently.

Hermione shrugged, "I just feel sad. I don't know why."

Of course, she did. She wasn't sad, particularly, as scared. But Emma was too young to understand. Too young to keep even the scariest of things from penetrating her dreams. She'd dabbled with the Death Eaters once... Hermione wasn't going to let her get caught up with them again. The less Emma knew, the better. The less Emma knew, the less she needed to know about why Hermione was crying.

"I'm scared, Hermione," she admitted.

"Why?" Hermione asked, startled.

"Because... you're sad a lot, and you get frustrated. And sometimes you start crying... are you sick?" the little girl's voice trembled a bit as she spoke, and Hermione sat up in her chair, taking the smaller girl's hands. They were freezing from the bitter wind, but Hermione rubbed them as she spoke, trying to warm her up.

Hermione shook her head, chuckling quietly, "I'm not sick. I'm just pregnant. When you're pregnant, it messes with how you feel. I could be really happy and suddenly start crying. The same for sadness. It just makes my emotions ten times greater than they are."

"Oh... well," she hugged Hermione tightly. "I don't want you to be sad."

"I'll try not to, I promise," Hermione told her gently. "Come on, it's freezing. Let's get inside."

They ended up curling up by the fire making smores. Their mother was reading A Muggle's Guide to the Wizarding World just behind the two girls and their father was trying to make sense of a Prophet Harry had sent them via Errol – who Hermione had to feed fifty treats before he'd leave again. Emma giggled as Hermione wiped some chocolate off of Emma's face and then she pressed some warm chocolate into Hermione's. Hermione shrieked, but ended up laughing and licking it off. Eight months pregnant... but she could still manage like she wasn't even expecting.

"Alright, you two, bedtime," Linda cut in, bookmarking a page in her book. "It's getting late."

"Mum!" Emma cried in despair. "It's only ten o'clock-"

"It's a weeknight," Linda reminded the little girl. "Come on-"

Hermione grabbed the arm of the sofa and pulled herself up, wincing a bit as her knees cracked. "Come on, we can count the stars. There's a meteor shower-"

"No counting the stars, young ladies," Linda threatened. "Bed time. Now, off you go. I'll be checking on you."

"I'll tell you a story," Hermione offered, taking Emma's hand as they walked to the bedroom. Emma agreed reluctantly and Hermione opened their bedroom door, but stopped suddenly and gasped as a cool feeling ran down her leg. Hermione glanced down and saw the liquid wetting her pajama bottoms. Hermione water... just... broke.

"Mum?" Hermione asked carefully, turning around.

She had returned to her book and didn't look up, "Yes, Hermione?"

"Can... Can you find Dorea and Lily?"

Her father dropped the top half of the Prophet in a very Snape-like manner and looked at the teen. Her mother looked up also as they heard the tremble in her voice. "Hermione, are you-"

"My water just broke," Hermione interrupted.

"Richard, find the Potter's," her mother instructed quickly, leaping into action. She rushed towards Hermione. "Hermione, come on, let's get you comfortable. Take you to a hospit-"

"No," Hermione interrupted, giving a gasp as she was sent into a course of pain. So much pain. A contraction. "Going to a hospital would expose me as not being missing and pregnant... no, it has to be here."

"Hermione, is it even safe?" her mum asked sharply.

"Yes," Hermione assured her. "Most wizarding births are at home..." The contraction ended and Hermione let out a breath and rubbed the top of her stomach.

"Still ten minutes apart," she told Hermione as she was escorted to her bed. Emma was staring wide-eyed at the scene, terrified of what was happening. "You're not even close yet." Linda flew to Hermione's closet and grabbed a cotton nightgown. Emma refused to leave, so Hermione changed quickly, taking a deep breath as another contraction hit her. Hermione knew that this was probably not the worst feeling in the world. Afterall, she had taken on Dolohov. She knew she could survive this childbirth.

After her mom eased her out of her yoga pants and t-shirt, she pulled the nightgown over Hermione's body. A knock sounded at the door and the mother opened it. Richard bustled in, a bag dangling from his arms, and Dorea and Lily appeared in the portraits.

She hummed in agreement as she watched a contraction, "Hermione, dear, I need you to take out your wand."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"To perform the diagnostic spells, to determine when we should call the elves. Now, repeat after me, dear."

She said spells and Hermione repeated them. Whatever Dorea saw, didn't seem to make her happy. Dorea tutted after a moment and Hermione narrowed her eyes at the elderly woman, "What?"

"Only a few milimeters. I suggest you take her on a walk through the Manor," Dorea told her mother. "They do it all the time at St. Mungo's, as I recall. It'll speed up the dialation process."

Hermione's mother nodded, "They do that at Muggle hospital's as well. Come on, Hermione. Up and at 'em."

"I-I need to tell Harry first," Hermione insisted, reaching for the parchment on her bedside table.

"No need," Lily promised. "He's sleeping right now and he won't see your message until well after you've had this baby. If you don't have the baby by eight o'clock, we'll call Porter in to deliver Harry the message himself, alright?"

Hermione nodded slowly, "A-Alright."

They walked for hours, lapping the house at least eight times before Hermione's contractions were too close together for her to continue. Porter helped her mother get her back to her room in the shortest route possible.

It was only five in the morning and Hermione was tired. She hadn't been sleeping well lately... not since Harry told her Malfoy might be cursing people.

"Are you okay?" Mum asked as Hermione paused to let out a deep breath as the pain tore at her.

Hermione took a second before answering, "Yeah... terrified, but okay."

"You'll do perfect," Mum assured her. "You have never failed anything before-"

"There's a first time for everything," Hermione insisted.

She winced slightly as they reached the Common Room door to their quarters. Linda spoke to her anyway, "I know, but this isn't going to be it. Let's get you lying down."

Hermione's father had Emma on his lap in the living room area and Hermione noticed she was asleep. When Richard spotted the two returning, he slowly slipped off the couch, careful not to wake the youngest daughter, and walked over to them.

"All set, Hermione?" Lily asked from the portrait.

Hermione let out a laugh, "Godric knows more than I. I better be."

"Godric?" Dad asked, confused.

"Right, uh, he's the founder of my house at Hogwarts," Hermione explained, wincing at a sharp pain. "Instead of say 'Lord knows'... I've taken the habit of saying 'Godric knows'."

"Oh... I see."

"Well, dear, looks like a few more minutes and you'll be ready," Dorea told her. She shifted her gaze to Richard. "I'm afraid you're going to have to leave."

"What?" he glanced at Hermione and saw her just as confused. "Why?"

"Wizard taboo," she told him. "It's bad luck for men to be near. This is women's work. Charlus is in the study."

"But, I need to stay-" Dad started to protest.

"Dad," Hermione interrupted, "It's fine, really... You can wait right outside the door if you want. Don't let Emma be alone... please?"

Dad glanced at his eldest daughter, like she wasn't taking his side. Hermione was sort of meeting in the middle... "Hermione-"

"She'll be fine with me, Richard," Mum promised, kissing him swiftly on the noticed a Muggle video camera in her hand... Wonderful. "Now, I'll be sure you're here immediately after Dorea deems it okay."

Dorea nodded, "Yes, right after."

Hermione's dad gave Hermione a tight hug and kissed her forehead, "You'll do great, sweetheart."

Hermione gave a nervous laugh, "Thanks, Dad..."

He was taken out of the room by Porter. It was just the three of them, another house elf, who's name I didn't know, pressing a cool cloth to Hermione's forehead which seemed to make the room so much less stuffier in seconds, and Hermione's mother tampering with the video camera before she tried it out.

"I can't seem to get this to work," she admitted.

"It might not," Hermione informed her. "Electronics don't work at Hogwarts either. I believe it's the wards or the use of mag-magic," Hermione grimaced at another contraction, groaning slightly. "Sorry-"

"But I was going to video tape this," Linda sighed in disappointment.

"You can view the memory," Hermione told her helpfully. "Oh, bloody hell!"

"What?" Linda asked in concern. "How are you feeling?"

She managed a weak smile, "Fantastic. I'm only being ripped apart from the inside out."

Dorea laughed, "Now, dear, the worst hasn't even started yet!"

Hermione closed her eyes, imagining she hadn't said that. She didn't... It was simply her imagination, right?

"What are you hoping for, Hermione? A boy or a girl?" Linda asked, to distract the girl.

Hermione gave a breathless laugh, "Well... don't tell Harry I said this, but our names were Lillian Emma and James Sirius... I kinda want a James."

Dorea laughed, "Another James Potter? Hermione, you've just condemned the world."

Hermione gave a light laugh, only for her to cut it off with a gasp. The pain was so much worse now.

"Alright, that was at least fifteen seconds," Hermione's mum insisted. "She's ready."

Dorea snapped her fingers and two elves appeared with a white pillowcase over their knobby bodies. They were girl elves, Hermione noticed, and had a red cross emblazoned on the chest of their tunics. Healer elves?

"These are the grandchildren of the Healer Elves that delivered James," Dorea told Hermione. "They're tradition amongst old families, really, that don't go to the Hospital."

Hermione didn't know how to respond, but another contraction hit her and she gasped in pain, "Okay, okay, just- get the baby out! I am on bloody fire!"

Linda chuckled and set the camera down to grip Hermione's hand. Hermione didn't even realize how warm it was until now. The elf that was keeping Hermione's forehead cool refreshed the washcloth and placed it just over Hermione's eyebrows. Her breath left her in pants as she started to freak out. What if she didn't do it right? What if she failed? Merlin, what if she was a horrible mother?

"Relax," Dorea insisted. "It's going to take twice as long if you don't relax. Now... Rosey, I need you to help guide Hermione, alright? She's never done this before." The frailer of the elves nodded and leaped onto the bed. Hermione's mother jumped a little at the suddenness of it, but didn't otherwise move her hand from her daughter. "Merry, I need you to get the blankets in the closet and the towels. And another wash cloth with a bucket of cool water."

"Yes, Mistress," a thicker elf that was slightly taller than Rosey squeaked before apparating.

"Tell me something," Hermione said nervously as another contraction hit her.

"What's that?" Mum asked, taking her daughter's hand as she smoothed Hermione's wild hair down.

"On a scale of one to ten... how much does it hurt?"

Lily gave me a kind smile as she laughed, "Hermione, dear, it's a four."

Hermione's mum nodded when Hermione looked at her for confirmation, nodding, "Yes, a f-four. Though Emma was a three."

A four? Hermione could do a four... Definitely. Afterall, she considered Dolohov's encounter a seven.

"Okay... okay... Four isn't so bad."

"On the next contraction, Miss Hermione, you must push," Rosey's voice sounded suddenly.

"Push?" Hermione asked faintly.

"Yes. Deep breath," Dorea instructed. Hermione followed the breathing pattern she instructed and gripped her mother's hand tightly as a contraction hit her. "Now push and breath out," Dorea told the girl.

So Hermione did as she was told.

It hurt more than a four.

"You are all liars," I gasped. "That's at least an eight!"

"Oh... ten was bad," Dorea gave an unsympathetic smile. Hermione rolled her eyes, but listened as Rosey spoke again.

"One more time, Miss, and I'll see the head," Rosey instructed.

Hermione was perspiring profusely, and the pain was so bad she was crying out. It was nearly seven by the time Hermione was even remotely close.

"One more big push," Mum encouraged. Hermione let out a gasp and pushed, determined to make this the last push. All the tension left her in an instant and she collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. The elf at her head wiped her forehead with an ice cold washcloth and Hermione's mother directed her attention to the child Hermione couldn't see.

"You did excellent," Dorea approved.

"Oh, they're beautiful," Lily sighed, leaning on her knees in the protrait.

"Why isn't there-" A sharp wail and Hermione instantly stopped, her eyes flying open. She let out shaky laugh.

"Beautiful," she murmured.

Hermione's mum had a bundle in her hands and Merry was rushing about as she and Rosie did a few charms.

"Do you want to meet your son, Hermione?" Mum said gently, passing the bundle to the new mother. Hermione took him and didn't even struggle with how to hold him. A son. Hermione felt herself tearing up and hesitantly reached out to stroke the soft dark hair atop it's head. It wasn't thick... just the perfect baby hair patch.

"He's... perfect," Hermione insisted, smiling. Rosie did some diagnostic spells to determine if he was healthy or not - and he was - and then cleaned the bed with another spell.

"He is," Dorea nodded. "Your son's name?"

"Unless Harry wishes otherwise," Hermione told her quietly, not able to find herself speaking more than a whisper. "Then... James Sirius Potter."

"Then I won't write an official document until Master Harry is here, Miss," the elf at my head told her.

"Yes," Lily nodded, "and I don't want him to be put into the magical registry until you're ready to appear back in the Wizarding World."

"That's probably wise..." Hermione gazed at her son, unable to believe he was here. "I'm going to spoil you rotten..."

Dorea chuckled and Hermione noticed her mum was all teary eyed. She wiped them when Hermione noticed and the new mother slowly sat up, wincing as she felt her insides protest, but managed to make room for Linda to sit. She gratefully sat and took my hand, gazing down at the boy.

"Welcome to the world, little guy," Hermione murmured to her son, his tiny hand barely the size of her thumb. "Your daddy's going to be so happy to finally meet you."

"Speaking of which, it's seven thirty," Dorea told her.

Hermione nodded slowly, "Yes, do you mind-" She didn't even have to ask, as the quill and the small bit of parchment were presented to her via Rosie. Hermione wrote Malfoy quickly with one hand while holding James with the other.

It took a few moments of tense silence before the parchment heated up on her knee, where it rested. Parkinson.

Hermione gave a smile and scribbled, James Sirius wants to meet you!

The reply was immediate. What?! Since when?

Since nearly five minutes ago, Hermione giggled to herself as she wrote. There's always memory's if you'd like to see, don't worry.

What does he look like?

Hermione gazed at her son a moment before writing back, Your nose and ears. My lips... I think he's going to end up being your clone. He hasn't opened his eyes yet... he's sleeping.

I'll try to make it to the RoR tonight... I should be able to. If not, I'll definitely make it soon.

Hermione read the line a few times before replying, Try to hurry. You do want to keep the name James Sirius, right? Or have you been toying with other names?

No, James Sirius is perfect for me if you like it too.

I love it, Hermione assured him

And I love you.

She rolled my eyes, feeling her cheeks flush, as she quickly wrote just as James decided to wake, I love you too. Gotta go, James is crying. Have a great day today.

It's already fantastic, thanks to you and James;)

Hermione smiled at that and pushed the parchment away from her as James started to wail.

"Oh! His first cry!" Mum teared up. Linda got up close as she shushed the wailing bundle. Just the sound alone brought tears to Hermione's eyes.

"He's just tired," Dorea assured the new mother. "I'll wait for him to sleep before I call your father and sister in here. What did Harry say?"

"He's going to try to get to the Room of Requirement so he can see James," Hermione said softly, stroking her son's cheek as she tried to stop the wailing. His bright pink gums were visible as he opened his mouth wide to cry. And his tiny eyes were screwed tight as though he was putting all his effort into this. "Tonight, when he's free. If he can... And I think we agreed on James Sirius..."

"Perfect," Dorea smiled at her. Linda patted her daugher's hand as James slowly drifted to sleep, seeming to realize he himself was tired. "I'll go wake your father and sister."

As Dorea and Lily left their portrait, Hermione's mother nearly pounced on her. "Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded, her eyes only leaving James's now peaceful face once, "Yes... Perfect. You?"

"I'm a grandmother. How do you expect me to feel?" she asked, teasingly. "Old!"

Hermione giggled quietly, "You're not old. Just... getting there."

Linda laughed lightly and crawled next to her daugher, "He's beautiful, Hermione. He looks like Harry, but he has something about you... your aura, I think. Not to mention a nice set of lungs."

Hermione ran her fingers through his fine hair and gave a quiet sigh, "No sleep, as I understand."

"I'll babysit at night, Hermione, so you can sleep. Trade?" Linda offered.

"I can't do that to you, Mum," Hermione insisted. Her eyes looked over the tiny bundle, "He's my responsibility and I'm going to do what I need to to care for him."

"If you need anything," she told her daughter insistantly, "I'll always help, no matter what. Okay?"

"Okay," Hermione said, relieved.

"You'll do great, Hermione."

"I'm terrified," Hermione admitted.

"It is scary... but you can do this. I know you can," Mum told her simply before the door opened. Emma bounded to her sister's side and gasped when she saw James.

"He's pretty!" she whispered.

Hermione giggled, "Emma, meet James. James, your Aunt Emma."

She slowly climbed on the bed and Hermione moved the blanket with her finger so she could see his face and his tiny hand that was resting on his chin. It was adorable.

Hermione looked up at her father and saw him all teary-eyed, "Hey, baby girl."

Hermione gave him a smile, "Hey, Daddy."

He whistled to himself, "He's going to be a trouble-maker."

"Tell me about it," Hermione managed to laugh. "No doubt fifty detentions from McGonnagall his first year of Hogwarts."

Dorea laughed at that as she returned, Charlus and James with her this time, "Minerva's still teaching? My, she's about as old as my late sister. Amazing she's still alive."

Hermione knew McGonagall was elderly, but she didn't know she was... that old.

Dorea ushered everyone out of Hermione's room, except for herself when James Jr. woke once more. Hermione could see his brown eyes now. Hermione's eyes... It seemed all Potter's men had their mother's eyes. First James had Dorea's, Harry had Lily's, and now James the Second had Hermione's.

And this was going to be the hard part.

"I-" Hermione hesitated as she unbuttoned the top of her nightgown, exposing her chest. Linda handed back James and gave an understanding smile.

"It's easy, dear," she assured her daughter. She taught Hermione how to feed James, and after a few tries, he eventually got it as well.


	27. Chapter 27

Mum and Dad had left hours ago... Granted London wasn't a close drive - it was at least two hours - they should have been home by now. Hermione clung to the hope they got caught in traffic, but as an hour past schedule ticked by, she grew worried.

James Jr. was sleeping in her arms, his one arm hugging his mother's neck, the other her arm as he rested his head in the crook of her neck. His breath reached Hermione's ear in slow pants. He had been sleeping ever since her parents left. Which meant Harry would get the full fiasco while James was awake.

"If you keep pacing, my dear, you'll wear down the wood," Dorea chided. "It is nearly five hundred years old."

"Sorry," Hermione muttered, stopping and staring at the fireplace in the study - which was where they were. It only lasted five seconds before she began pacing again.

"They're fine, my dear," James Sr. insisted. "Otherwise Harry would have sent his patronus."

Unless they were attacked.

Hermione shook away those thoughts and continued pacing. Dorea gave up trying to get the young mother to sit.

Just then the fireplace roared and Hermione stopped, turning towards it. Her parents tumbled out first, looking shaken, before Harry appeared, his trunk slinging out after him.

"Well, it's about time," Dorea laughed.

"Sorry, bit of traffic and we had to walk into the wards. No electricity, you know, besides the good old cellular device," Dad explained.

"Good to have you back, son," Charlus gave Harry a firm smile.

"Dumbledore's dead," Harry stated.

There was a sharp breath, but Hermione was the first to voice it, "By whom?"

"Snape," Harry sighed. "Insane, right?" But he wasn't looking for an answer. "It was Draco... that's why he was so weird... He's a Death Eater alright, but I don't think he wants to be."

Hermione frowned, "He's so young, Harry."

"But that would mean there are others," Harry continued as he stepped closer to me, inspecting the boy in my arms. "And it could be anyone in Hogwarts that's a Death Eater."

Hermione sighed quietly, "Well... we won't know for a long time, I guess. Not until we can get rid of you-know-who."

Harry was so close now. Hermione could smell him - cologne and chocolate. She noticed her mom had tapped her husband's arm, gesturing towards them. Emma, who was seated on the couch, sighed at the lack of attention ... Harry reached out and so gently, it looked like his hand just ghosted over the sleeping form, touched James's hair. James continued to sleep through the rough hand that touched his so soft skin.

"Hey, there," Harry said quietly.

Hermione giggled, "Here, you can hold him. My arm fell asleep."

Hermione passed the infant to Harry, placing him in the unsure arms. Harry looked confused, and highly determined... probably not to drop him. "He's heavy," Harry blurted.

Hermione giggled once more, kissing Harry's cheek, and stepping back. "He's going on fifteen pounds."

Harry's gazed at the boy in the onsie and a soft smile turned up his lips. It was that moment James ended his nap and popped his eyes open, staring up at his father for the first time. The brown eyes met green for a split second before James turned his head to look at his mother, as if he was saying "Who's this?" or "Is he safe?" But his head snapped back to Harry a second later and reached up to him.

"I think he likes you," Linda insisted.

They all gathered in the sofas, Hermione's parents and sister took the larger sofa. Hermione rested next to Harry, placing James on her lap, and leaning into him. She had been running off of five hours of sleep daily. She was tired.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night," the teen admitted quietly, playing with James' hair.

"And how much did you sleep for?" Harry pressed.

"Four hours," Hermione shrugged. Harry sent his girlfriend, no fiancee, a concerned look, but she gave him a smile, "It's fine. I'm just glad you're here and you're safe."

"The Order didn't suspect anything," Harry told her. "They let me go with your parents like nothing was off. Remus couldn't take me, apparently Dumbledore had a task for him before the moon."

"That's good, then," Hermione nodded. "Did they tell you anything about when they're picking you up this summer?"

He nodded, "Apparently, Snape's been compromised, so they're changing the day to the Saturday before my birthday."

"Okay, well we have plenty of time to get to that," Dorea insisted. "I've got to go tell the elves what's on the menu for dinner. I'll leave you two to it."

Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and she pulled herself closer to him, her eyes closing as she took in his body warmth. "You should sleep, Hermione... you're about to pass out."

Hermione shook her head slightly, "'m fine," She murmured. Her arm was tight about James' midsection so he wouldn't fall.

"Dear, go to bed," Linda insisted. "I'll watch James. You need sleep. Harry as well. You both look tired."

"Linda," Dad warned.

She rolled her eyes, "Dorea put charms on the bedroom so they can't do anything, Richard. Honestly. Go on, dear. James will sleep with us tonight." Hermione knew no such charms were up, but her dad seemed to relax.

"Does that mean I get to sleep with you too?" Emma asked her parents.

"No, you can sleep with us," Harry told her. Herminoe nodded, her eyes still closed, in agreement.

"Yeah, we have plenty of room," Hermione added.

"Yay!"

Hermione rose suddenly, noticing them all get up. It was late, She'd give them that. Nearly eight at night. Mum took James from her oldest daughter and kissed her forehead, "Get some sleep. When dinner's done, we'll wake you."

"Thanks," Hermione told her.

She just waved it off and Emma took Harry's arm. "We've missed you so much, Harry! Mia missed you the most, though! She'd always tell me stories about Prince Harry-"

"Emma!" Hermione blushed furiously.

"It's cute," Harry insisted. "I missed you, too."

"Hey!" Emma gasped.

"I missed you the most, Emma, don't worry," Harry told her, laughing.

Hermione could tell her parents heard because there was some chuckles. Charlus rolled his eyes as he said, "I'll have the elves save your dinners, if you don't show up in a few hours."

"Thank you," Hermione told him brightly, "But I'm sure a nap won't stop me from eating."


	28. Chapter 28

Harry gathered his bethrothed in his arms as they laid down and Hermione turned to face him. Emma must have thought they were asleep when she leaped out of bed and left the room. Hermione was alone with Harry.

His green eyes watched the brunette as she looked up at him. "What happened, Harry? At Hogwarts?"

He let out a breath, "It was... bad, I guess. Ron and Ginny didn't leave me alone. I had to sneak out at night just to get to the Room of Requirement. And Ron constantly badgered me about how much he wish you were there to write our essays..." Hermione scowled. "So I did them myself and ignored Ron when he'd ask for help." She giggled at that. "He made Keeper for the Quidditch team, Neville and Luna seem like really close friends now, and I mostly hung out with them during the weekends..."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "You think they're trustworthy?"

"Without a doubt," Harry answered immediately, but quietly.

Hermione nodded, "I like them. Neville's a really nice, amazingly loyal person and Luna... well, she's Luna. Nothing else to describe her."

He pressed his forehead against his fiancee's and she blinked as her eyes crossed. "I agree. Neville's actually pretty different now. Since the Ministry, it seems, he's more confident and he's the best at Herbology. I actually asked him for help."

"He's really bright," Hermione agreed quietly.

They were quiet and just staring at each other, "I love you," he admitted quietly.

Hermione smiled softly, her heart skipping a beat. "I love you."

"Have you picked out godparents?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Haven't even thought about it, to be honest."

"Well, it is kinda hard because people don't know about us, let alone you're even alive."

Hermione giggled, "My fault, is it?"

"Not at all," Harry murmured. "I'm just worried..."

"Well... you trust Neville and Luna, right? Why not make them the Godparents? Do you have any objections?" Hermione giggled as she kissed the corner of his lip, "Speak now or forever hold your peace."

Harry chuckled and pressed his lips to her own. When he pulled away, he murmured, "Future Mrs. Potter, I have no objections."

She smiled at him and cupped his cheek with her hand, and she could tell he felt the cool metal of her engagement ring touch his cheek. "Well, Mr. Potter," she frowned when it didn't come out like she wanted. "I guess that's a good thing."

"How is James?"

Hermione gave a giggle, "He's darling. Dorea insists he's going to look just like you. He has your hair and he seems to take interest in the broom that was stuffed in a closet. So I have no doubt he'll be a Quidditch player-"

"Like his father," Harry murmured proudly.

"Unfortunately," Hermione teased. "And he has a pair of lungs. I sort of feel bad for my parents."

"That bad?"

"No... he just wakes every two seconds," Hermione admitted. "I'm starting to get used to it. But you're going to be tired..."

"What if we trade?" Harry offered. "Like every time he wakes, one of us retrieve him. That way you can sleep and I can sleep in intervals."

"Sounds like a good idea," Hermione yawned, getting even more tired just thinking about sleep.

"Take a nap," Harry murmured, kissing her forehead. She was asleep before she heard anything else he said, if he said anything.

Harry POV:

As she drifted off to sleep, Harry Potter slowly pulled away from her. She stirred, making him freeze, but didn't wake. When he was sure she was deeply sleeping, he moved so he was sitting and leaning against the headboard, gazing down at her. The glow form the windows of the setting sun settled on her face, making him realize just how beautiful she was.

Goddess like.

Her face was peaceful as she slept, and he could see no tension. No thinking about the war, or raising James, or even if Harry was going to die by Voldemort. She just... was free from that when she was sleeping.

Harry wished he could be like that all the time, but he hadn't stopped worrying. He couldn't. She could get hurt. James could get hurt, now. The Death Eaters would be after them just for him involvement. The Order was keeping something from him... Dumbledore didn't want him to know his grandparents. It was enough to make him not trust the people he had come to think of as a second family.

Hermione was his family now. Hermione, Linda, Mr. Granger, Emma, and my grandparents, his parents. They were all he needed for a family.

He loved them and knew they wouldn't do anything to harm any one of them.

The door opened some time later as he sat contemplating his thoughts and Linda was there with a sleeping James in her arms. "Dinner's done, if you want to have some," she whispered across the room. "And get her up."

"Yeah, we'll be down in a minute," Harry told her quietly, shifting and gently shaking Hermione's arm.

"Okay, see you then," Linda smiled before walking away, but leaving the door open. Hermione didn't wake.

"'Mione?" Harry murmured. "You gotta get up. Food's done."

She hummed something softly and then turned onto her stomach, her hair blocking Harry's view of her face. Gently, he tucked it behind her ear and murmured, "Come on, Hermione. You gotta eat-"

"M fine," she muttered into the mattress.

Harry rolled his eyes and smirked deviously as he pressed his lips to her own. She responded immediately.

"Not fair," she gasped as he pulled away.

Harry chuckled, "I'll let you sleep later. But you have to get up and eat first."

She groaned, "Alright... But you owe me."

Harry laughed, nodding, "I owe you."

She took his hand as she rolled out of the bed and dragged him from the room, "Might as well get it over with quickly," she explained.


	29. Chapter 29

Exhausted, Hermione collapsed on the bed after dinner. Mum and Dad were taking Emma and James tonight, which she was grateful for. A peaceful sleep that would last for more than three hours straight. It seemed she hadn't slept at all. Not that she minded. She loved James to death, and she'd willingly lose sleep to care for him. But she just needed a break.

Harry lounged beside her, watching his fiancee sink into the sheets.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

Hermione blushed and blinked at him, "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," he said honestly, and he pressed his forehead to hers like they were earlier when Hermione took her nap. His arm extended around her waist and pushed her closer to him. He was older now, she realized. Nearly seventeen. And he was taller, probably Ron's height. His voice, while deeper, was the same and always calming. His green eyes hid behind his glasses and Hermione reached up and pulled them off of him.

Automatically, he started to squint in order to see her clearly, "You and I are a pretty messed up pair, huh?"

"How so?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged lightly, "I'm missing, you're destined to be the Savior of the Wizarding World, and I'm the bookworm. You're the lazy bum."

"Oi! I'm not a lazy bum," Harry insisted jokingly, chuckling.

Hermione didn't defend her initial claim. Instead she kissed him and slowly turned them so that she was hovering on top of him. His hands still rested on her waist, steadying her. Hermione's own hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. She could never get enough of him.

"I love you," he murmured against her lips.

A smile on her own caused her to pull away, and look at him, "I love you more than you'll ever know."

Hermione was pleased when she saw his eyes light up, even though they were squinting up at her. Hermione kissed him again and pulled her wand out of her back pocket, wordlessly saying a silencing charm. Harry got the hint.

When Hermione awoke, the sunlight was filing in through the windows. She snuggled against Harry's chest, taking his warmth, hoping she'd get a few more hours of sleep. Of course, the knock at the bedroom door denied that.

Hermione moaned in despair and Harry chuckled, "Morning," he murmured.

"Morning," she replied, giving him a quick kiss before sliding out of the bed and pulling her robe on. "Just a second!" Hermione called to whoever was at the door.

"James is hungry, dear," her mother's voice called back. "I've just brought him by."

"Oh," She pulled her pajama bottoms on and opened the door, blocking the view of the bed where Harry was -though she knew he was under the covers and wouldn't scar her mother for life. She took the baby from Linda's arms and he gurgled before letting out a strangled cry and attaching to her hair.

Hermione giggled and uncurled his strong fingers, "I know, James, my hair is fascinating. Let's get you fed, huh?"

Hermione's mum mumbled something about Richard and dashed away, her cheeks red. Hermione was confused as to why until she closed the door and turned to see Harry sitting up in bed, and reaching for his t-shirt, which happened to slightly show his rear-end.

Hermione blushed, and rolled her eyes, "You've thoroughly flashed my mother."

He yelped and fell out of bed, taking the covers with him to cover up. Hermione giggled and sat down in the chair, shouldering her robe to the side as she fed James. Hermione watched as Harry crawled off the floor and pulled his clothing on. The scars on his body were very visible in the sunlight, but she tried not to stare.

Harry walked right up to Hermione, reaching into his pocket, and pressed a locket into her free hand. Hermione stared at it confused, "That was the most unromantic way to give me a piece of jewelery, but-"

"It's not for you," Harry explained. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean, this is how Dumbledore died."

She immediately dropped the locket, wondering if it was cursed.

"Okay, I'm not saying this right," Harry admitted. Hermione gave him a look that clearly said, "You think?" Harry sighed and started again, "The night Dumbledore died, we went to this cave. He told me that we were looking for a way to defeat Voldemort-"

"And that necklace?" Hermione prompted.

"I'm getting there," Harry smirked. "This locket was in the cave. We got it and then returned to the Astronomy tower. Death Eaters stormed the castle, and you know the rest. But last night, before I fell asleep, I read it and saw that it was a trick. This necklace is a fake." He picked it up off the ground. "Horcruxes."

Hermione froze at the word, "What?"

"Horcruxes. They're... pieces of his soul," Harry tried to explain.

Hermione nodded, "I read about them in the library here... Harry, are you sure?"

He nodded, "The note is written by R.A.B. And he said that he discovered the secret and well-" He handed her the locket once more and using her free hand she opened it up and read the note.

"So... there are how many, exactly?" Hermione asked faintly.

"Well..." Harry hesitated and she knew it wasn't a good number. James finished then and Hermione put him over her shoulder as she paced the room, burping him. "How many, exactly? Seven. But Dumbledore didn't think he finished. He says there's six."

Hermione gently patted James' back as she nodded to myself, "Okay... so what to do?"

"I have to find them, and destroy them," Harry told her.

"I'm going with," she told him.

"Hermione-"

"No," Hermione told him. "I have to. Harry, now that Dumbledore's gone, he isn't a threat to me anymore. To James. I'm helping with this because I am your friend, your fiancee, and I am not going to just stand aside and watch you get hurt or lost."

"Hermione, it's dangerous-" Harry protested.

"And it's war," she told him. "Come on, I'm not arguing, Harry. It's best you don't go alone. Who are you going to take instead? Ron?"

Harry winced, "Er..."

Hermione blinked, "You were, weren't you?"

"He was, er... sort of there. And I had to-"

"Alright, fine. If you chose Ron over-"

"But what if I did something else?" Harry asked. "Someone the Death Eaters would never suspect I'd travel with."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Who?"

When he told her, Hermione just blinked a moment, before nodding, "Alright. If they say yes."

She convinced him to go on a walk with her and they ended up in the kitchens. The elves happily made them a meal and a few bottles for James for later.

"I'm trying to switch to formula," she explained to Harry. "It's killing me, feeding him all the time. And it'll be easier to sleep if I don't have to be completely awake."

He shrugged, like he didn't require an explanation, and ate some breakfast with me. James happily stuck his hands in Hermione's eggs and then clapped, getting the eggs all over himself.

She giggled, wiping his hands and halfheartedly scolding him, "James! That's not your food."

Harry muttered a quick Scourgify and Hermione let her fingers run through James' thin hair, watching Harry, "When do we leave?"

Harry's eyes moved to her, taking them off James, "We can't take James, and we can't leave him here alone."

And there it was. The big issue. She glanced at James, the same moment Harry did, and James glanced up to look between them, like he knew they were talking about him.

"He wouldn't be alone," but even to her, the words sounded false. She ran her hand through his hair again, "We'll discuss it whenever it's time to go."

Harry nodded slowly, "Okay, til later."

It was near noon when they departed from the kitchen, James happily gurgling in Harry's arms. "Let's go to the garden," she said quietly, taking Harry's hand and lacing her fingers with his own. He gave her hand a squeeze.

"Let's," he agreed.


	30. Chapter 30

Hermione smiled, her eyes shutting slightly as the sun hit her face. It was a warm day and perfect for being outside. Just the right amount of light and not too hot.

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger walked quietly, their hands intertwined as the father held James.

"Do you walk around here often?" Harry asked her curiously, his eyes wandering about the gardens.

Hermione shook her head, "Mum and Dad won't let me out of the house. Not unless someone accompanies me, that is. And Mum is always with Emma, adamant about not letting her out of her sight. And Dad is working on something, using your father and grandfather's help but they won't tell me when I ask. It's just been me and James for the most part."

"Well if I can, I'll add myself to your duo," Harry told her simply. "Can't let you be all alone."

"I don't know," Hermione teased back, tightening her fingers laced with Harry's. "It wouldn't be a duo if you were to join the club."

"Well, we'll just be a trio. The Potter Trio?" he tried.

"I'm not a Potter," Hermione told him simply.

He slowed his pace and came to a stop, turning her to face him. He lifted their entwined hands to look at the engagement placed firmly on her finger, "Not for long," he promised. Hermione glanced at him, giving a small smile of agreement.

"Not for long," she repeated quietly. "Harry?"

"Hmm?" he hummed, his eyes still watching the glittering diamond.

"I don't regret it," she told him.

He flashed her a smile, "Neither do I."

Her gaze dropped to James, "I'm terrified," she admitted. "Terrified that one day we won't be there for him... Terrified that he'll get hurt and we won't know..."

He nodded, "I think about it all the time."

Hermione swallowed hard, "Harry... can you promise me something?"

He nodded slowly, "Anything."

"I know you can't guarantee you'll live," Hermione started and pressed her finger to his lips when he started to speak. "But please... try not to get yourself killed?"

"I won't," Harry promised quietly. "Only if you promise not to either."

Hermione sniffled, "I won't."

He shifted James slightly and pulled her into a one armed hug, "You and James will make it for sure."

"You'll make it, too," Hermione insisted into his shoulder.

"You know what the prophecy said."

Hermione shoved him away from her, her anger welling up unwillingly, "I know damn well what the prophecy says, Harry Potter!" she snapped. "He isn't going to kill you. He isn't going to do that, do you understand?" Harry seemed stunned at her abrupt mood change. "You aren't going to die, and you are going to kill him. You are going to do what you do best and be The-Boy-That-Won't-Bloody-Die, alright?"

He chuckled, "Alright."

"This isn't funny!" she cried, tears gathering in her eyes. "I mean it, Harry. You can't... I can't let you..."

"Hey," Harry said gently, stepping closer to her. Hermione shook her head, but let him pull her into a tight embrace, James gurgling slightly over Harry's shoulder. "I'll be fine. I will make it out of this war because of you. Because of James... Because of your parents. Because of my parents. Because of my grandparents. I promise that. I won't die."

But Hermione still had a bad feeling from the entire conversation. She shook it off for just talking about the war and breathed in his scent as they stood in the middle of the garden. "I love you."

"I love you," he replied quietly into her hair.

They stood there for a moment, soaking in the presence of each other. It seemed as if they wouldn't see each other again. Hermione's arms were wrapped around Harry's waist, his one around her shoulders. The war didn't exist in that moment. The prophecy was never made. Nothing happened. There was just each other and James. Just the small family.

"Don't ever leave me," Hermione whispered to him. "Don't ever do that to me."

"I won't," he vowed. "Merlin, Hermione... I won't."

A crack sounded just a few feet away from them, causing them to jump apart. But Hermione's wand pointing threateningly at the creature that intruded didn't ease the situation.

"Porter is very sorry, Miss Granger," the creature bowed. "Lunch is served."

A pink hue stained Hermione's cheeks as she put her wand away, "Sorry, Porter, surprised is all."

Hermione hastily wiped the tears from her eyes as they entered the dining room. She took James from Harry, placing him on her lap, as they sat around the large table.

She glanced at Harry, "You should ask them about the locket." She said it so quietly so that he could refuse if he didn't agree and the others not know.

Harry was quiet for a few moments as they got our food and started small talk.

"Um... What do you know about horcruxes?" Harry asked after a silence rolled over the table. His gaze was focused on his grandparents and parents in the portrait above a stone fireplace. Hermione noticed that Potter Manor had a lot of fireplaces and portraits around them. She assumed that was how it was in all these Pureblood manors.

Linda froze from lifting her fork, causing the round green peas to roll off and clatter to the floor with a soft, barely audible thud.

"Harry?" Dorea asked uncertainly as she exchanged a look of unease with Charlus.

"Dumbledore died while searching for one of Vol-" Hermione elbowed him sharply, shooting her oblivious sister a look. "The Dark Lord's horcruxes... It was a fake. What do you know about them?"

Dorea gave her husband another look before she sighed, "I suppose a lot more than one would think. After all, my own parents had one. They were dedicated to the Dark Arts, and were obsessed with immortality, Harry. As you know, that is very much like the Dark Lord himself." Harry nodded, intrigued. Dorea continued, "My family has always been on the Dark side, Harry... always on Charlus'. Charlus and I were the first of the Black line to switch over. I was the first in my family, I should say. My cousin Andromeda was second. The others that married the Weasley's or the Longbottom's... it is their children that switched, they didn't have pure Black blood. Do you understand?"

"So you're saying that a horcrux is very dark magic and only the oldest of the families knew how to make them?" Harry clarified.

"You are bright," Dorea approved. "But not necessarily are they just known by dark families. Anyone could make one. The Dark Lord spoke of them often in the first war, before James was born. Why, Sirius's girlfriend at the time, Dorcas Meadowes, she was used to make a horcrux."

Harry crinkled his nose, "I've heard about her... Sirius mentioned she was blown to bits. They never found a body."

"As they hardly ever do," Charlus admitted. "The magic used is so powerful a body could not survive."

"What is a horcrux?" Linda asked, glancing between the parties of magical folk.

"It's a piece of someone's soul," James explained reluctantly. "After that someone murders another."

"But I don't understand," Hermione said slowly. "How do you divide a soul? Don't they have to remain in tact?"

"They do," Dorea nodded. "That is why a horcrux is considered dark. Once a horcrux is made, they cannot be unmade. The souls no longer merge once the object housing the piece is destroyed. The piece of the soul is destroyed as well. And... to split a soul, one must murder someone without remorse. To murder someone splits your soul."

"To feel remorse for a death," Charlus added, "Is to feel an emotion for your missing soul. The piece of soul you would have used is bonded to your body and refuses to move away if you feel mournful for killing someone in that moment. Also... if you feel remorse after the transport of the soul is complete, the soul fades into nothingness. It's one way to destroy them."

"How do you destroy them, then?" Harry asked. "Vol-" Hermione kicked him sharply under the table, and he sent her a look. "I mean, you-know-who isn't exactly known for handing out apology letters."

There was a sigh from Dorea, "The most dangerous of fires and the strongest of poisons. That is all you will find in text books pertaining to the subject."

"What does that mean?" Richard asked

Dorea gave them a smile, "We can't give you all the answers, Harry. You have to destroy him yourself."

She wasn't going to tell them outright. They'd have to figure it out. It was smart of her, as they had an entire summer to get started. And she had a point. To tell them could potentially put them in more danger. After all, Hermione knew that they weren't even supposed to find out about this so soon, let alone start hunting them immediately.

The meal continued without any more talk of the war, instead of school subjects, professors, or just Hogwarts alone.

And soon, the elves were taking the plates away and Hermione was off to change James.

Hermione smirked at Harry, pulling him along. "You need to learn somehow," she explained.

"What!?" Harry cried.

Hermione giggled, "What? You thought I'd do it all the time?"

"No... I thought there was a spell for that!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "No, Harry, there isn't."

As soon as they went through the fourth diaper, in the same day, Harry was ready the fifth time.

"I got it," Hermione told him. "But you can watch a pro do it."

Hermione set James down on a plush towel on the ground, causing him to giggle as his mother leaned over him. Tickling James' stomach, he did that adorable baby laugh where he sprays spit all over the place. Hermione opened the diaper, and smirked as she used her wand, "Scourgify."

"But you said-" Harry started.

"There isn't a specific spell to change a diaper," Hermione told Harry simpy. "You need to clarify."

Hermione put on another diaper, dumping the scourgified diaper into the hamper to be washed. The plus side of cloth diapers - one saved loads of money. The downside? They weren't leak resistant. Though Hermione was determined to find a spell for that.

"You minx," Harry accused, but chuckling none-the-less.

"You had to learn somehow," Hermione smirked at him.

He sighed, picking up James as Hermione finished fastening the diaper and pulling the boy's shirt down.

"You know what?" Harry said quietly.

"What?" she replied, leaning against his shoulder as he rested James back on the top of his legs. Almost like a seat, with Harry's knees bent up like they were.

"I don't know how I could go a whole year without seeing you ever again."

"You won't," Hermione promised. "We'll hunt the horcruxes together."

"I've only know him for a few days," Harry continued quietly, his hands rested on James's sides to keep him straight. "I love him."

"I know you do," she informed him. She reached a few feet to her right and grabbed a small stuffed lion Porter had presented James a few days after his birth. She could see the hand-stitching in the furry fabric and knew the elves had made it themselves. Hermione had thanked Porter profusely for it and always had it within reach. She presented it to James, who squealed and squeezed it to him.

He loved that thing.

"I don't know what I'd do... if... if he got hurt in this war... or you got hurt."

"It's not going to happen to him," Hermione promised into his shoulder, sadly smiling. "I may get hurt, but I'm not going to give up."

James violently started to shake the lion, giggling profusely. The poor toy was going to be demolished before the end of the year. Hermione took James' hand and gently stopped him. "Play nice," she scolded quietly. "Don't hurt Mr. Lion."

Harry chuckled as James watched her with wide eyes before trying to chew on the lion. Hermione grimaced as she realized how soggy it would be soon.

"You won't get hurt either," Harry promised. "I'd never let that happen."

Hermione swallowed, "You can't do everything, Harry. I need to fight... they're killing my friends too. They're killing people of the same blood as I. If I don't fight, it'd make it look like... like I don't care. I do care. Very much so. That's why I'll probably get hurt out there. But it's not your fault, it's not mine. It's theirs."

He sighed, "We both can't fight. We both can't hunt for horcruxes."

"I know," she admitted. "James needs us..."

"What are we going to do? I can't do this without you, but I can't let you come along... I know we said we'd wait until we talked about it, but we have to figure it out beforehand," Harry murmured quietly.

She sighed, "I don't know. If I stayed behind, I'd go crazy with worry... If I went with, I'd constantly worry about James..."

"And we can't take him," Harry added as well.

She ran her hand through her bushy hair, sighing quietly, "But sacrifices have to be made..."

"I don't know how long it'd take to get the horcruxes... I don't even know where to start looking."

Hermione nodded slowly, "Alright... Well, we'll use the summer to start researching. Show your grandparents the note and see what they know about RAB. And then we'll go from there."

Harry seemed to consider it, "Do you think they'd know?"

Hermione nodded, "No doubt. They were Death Eaters, remember? They've got to know someone from the first war with those initials..."

"You're a genius," Harry insisted.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Hardly. I just take a very logical situation and-"

"I love you, Hermione, really, but stop trying to downplay how smart you are."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't press the issue further, "Do you have any idea what horcruxes he could have possibly had?"

"The Diary, where it said Tom Marvolo Riddle, on the back," Harry answered. "Remember when I destroyed it to rescue Ginny?"

Hermione scowled at the name, but nodded, "You used a basilisk fang, which..." Her eyes widened in delight, "The strongest of poisons!" She sat up straight and noticed her son jump a bit at her sudden movement. "Dorea said the strongest of poisons and the most dangerous of fires."

"Right... And then Dumbledore had a ring that he destroyed. It was black and just weird looking. It transferred this dark curse into him, and it was like killing off his body. His right hand was black and you could see it just aging before your eyes."

Hermione considered Harry's words, watching James as he chewed on the lion with his gums. "So that's two destroyed out of a possible seven. And there's the locket. That's three."

"Only about four more," Harry nodded.

Hermione frowned, "We don't even know what they are."

"Or where."

She sighed in despair, "We don't even know where the real locket is."

"Time is lives, Hermione," Harry admitted after a moment of silence. "The more time we spend on this, the more people die."

"I know," Hermione admitted. "I know."

"How soon can we start?"

"Tonight," she told him. "Once I get James to bed, we'll start tonight."

He seemed to think about it, but nodded, "That's best."


	31. Chapter 31

And so after dinner, Hermione set James down in the crib by the door before casting an alert charm - letting her know if any noise sounded. Her wand would start to vibrate if he awoke and needed anyone. Dorea had taught it to her the first week of James being in this world.

Hermione's fingers skimmed the titles of the dusty books in the library, pulling books she had yet to read off the shelves. There weren't as many as Harry expected.. In fact, Hermione admitted she had read most of the library already.

She pulled a rather large tome and placed it in Harry's waiting arms where a growing pile was already beginning to form. She seemed to be picking them in order by title name... or was it author name? She didn't remember.

"Hermione, are all these books really necessary?" Harry gasped from under a towering pile they were carrying back to the living room of their quarters.

"Very much so," Hermione insisted, setting her pile down by the couches. "We need the floor space and I have notes here from what I've found between lunch and dinner. Dorea gave me a few notes as well," Hermione sat on the floor and began to separate the many trips worth of books based on contents. "I've been reading... These are the books I've read," She gestured to a small pile of about fifteen tomes. "These are the books I had on my list to read." The fifty something books that had taken quite a few trips to bring here was in five piles to her right, where Harry was sitting. She then gestured to fifteen books that Harry had brought in, "I'll start with those. They've got to be useful. I haven't even glanced at them yet."

"We'll be at this for days," Harry insisted.

"Better days than years," Hermione returned, scooting next to the pile and picking up a book off the top. "Besides, we have the material now."

"What do you want me to take notes on?"

She handed him a piece of brightly colored parchment. It was really regular parchment she had charmed to be a bright green. "When you come across a relevant passage, tear a piece off of this parchment and bookmark it. After we go through all of these books, we can go back and read the passages we found."

Harry groaned to himself, but didn't complain as he tore a few pieces to have at the ready and got to reading. Hermione was close to follow.

Leather bound book after leather bound book Hermione slammed down onto a dusty pile. Dust kicked up around them, causing them to cough or sneeze at intervals, but she couldn't seem to be finding anything.

Hermione glanced at Harry, to see him push his glasses up his nose. As she continued to watch him a moment, he ran his hand through his hair, rubbed his eyes and then adjust his glasses, before flipping a page. He then did the same thing again. She could see his eyes drooping, but he pushed on.

She glanced at the books she had read just in those few short hours and sighed, "We should get to bed. It's nearly three in the morning."

Harry jumped at the sound of her voice and glanced at the books she had read. Nearly seven, so just half her pile.

He glanced at the book, "I'm almost done with the chapter."

Her wand vibrated before she could reply. "Alright... don't stay up too late. As soon as you finish that chapter, come to bed, alright?"

He nodded, but didn't glance at her. "Five minutes, I promise."

She kissed his temple as she passed and canceled the charm around the crib as she opened the door.

"Shh," Hermione whispered, hearing James' cries now that the charm was gone. She gathered him in her arms and gently rocked him as she placed him in a small rocker that hummed a musical tune. Since it was on the opposite side of the bedroom, she sat down beside it, hearing James giggle and gurgle in delight as the song calmed him down. Hermione leaned against the wall, closing her eyes, and rested her arm on her knee as she occasionally pushed the rocker with her fingers.

Hermione was out before she knew whether or not he was asleep.

Her dreams were plagued. She was running, desperately trying to drag Harry with her. His hand seemed to be slipping in her own, and she tried to grasp it again and again, but she couldn't seem to get a good hold.

"Go," he gasped, panting. A spell zoomed overhead.

"No, you're more important," Hermione insisted, shoving him forward. "I'll distract them-"

"No!" he cried. "Come on!" He took her hand and they were running again. Woods surrounded them on all sides and she could hear twigs snapping behind them. They were being chased, but by what?

Harry made a sudden turn on the path and they were off of it, going into the dense brush of thick leaves, something that suggested they weren't in England... Maybe Wales?

They got a good ten feet in before he came to a stop and stepped carefully. We made virtually no sound as they hid in the brush.

"Got you, girlie," a voice grinned. Hermione was yanked from behind and she gasped out a scream.

"Harry!"

Her eyes flew open and spotted Harry's green eyes watching her. She realized how close they were and that he was carrying her to bed. "I can walk," Hermione mumbled, blushing slightly, but enjoyed the swaying motion as he refused to let her go.

"You had a nightmare," he said softly, letting her go as she hit the soft mattress. He pulled his shirt off and got in after her. "Want to talk about it?"

Hermione turned to face him, pulling off her own jumper. As she contemplated her nightmare, she ran her fingers over a scar on Harry's chest, absently tracing it lightly. "We were running in the woods," she murmured. "Someone was after us. And we just ran... and-"

"And they got me?"

"No, they got me," Hermione sighed. She pulled the covers over them and he pulled his fiancee to his chest. Merlin, he just knew how to take away the nightmares.

"I have that nightmare every night," he admitted. "Only, the scene changes. Woods. A street. Hogsmeade. Everywhere."

"They aren't going to take anyone," Hermione swore.

He tightened his arms around her, nodding, and rested his chin atop the bushy head. No words needed to be said. No promises could be made. This was war.


	32. Chapter 32

Hermione was awaken a few hours later by James cries and she slipped out of Harry's warm arms and slowly made her way to the rocking crib.

James was awake, crying quite loudly. She picked him up and gently opened the bedroom door so they wouldn't wake Harry. The living room was empty and as James quieted down, she fed him on the couch by the dying fire.

When he finished eating, Hermione burped him gently, walking around the room, and only paused when she felt the liquid over the front of her pajamas. Herminoe sighed and murmured a soft scourgify before going back to the bedroom to change his diaper.

Her eyes were alarmingly tired and as she set him in his crib, and she felt her own droop as she yawned.

"You're such a darling," Hermione admitted quietly. "But you're killing me, dear. Get some sleep."

He didn't want to be put down though, and instead, decided to cry again.

"No, no," Hermione gasped, hurriedly picking him up. "Shhh... Don't wake Daddy. Daddy needs his sleep. Shh," she insisted, only panicking just slightly. The bedroom door shut behind her once more and then she began her walk around the Manor. The windows of the hall showed her the garden, as well as the sky. Clear and a full moon hung over the tree line in the distance. Remus had not shown tonight, but Hermione figured he was at some other location for the full moon.

Hermione kept the moon in her sights as James clung to her neck, crying into the silent halls. She had put silencing charms on all the doors so no one would wake up ages ago, as this was nearly a monthly routine for the duo. The other occupants needed their sleep too.

"Shhh, I'm here," Hermione whispered, her sluggish steps trudging on. Merlin, she felt as though she was going to pass out soon.

But James wasn't calmed down. He wailed into her ear instead.

Hermione winced as he picked up a new octave and did her best. Rubbing his back usually worked, but it didn't seem to be tonight.

"It's alright," Hermione insisted quietly. "Mummy loves you. But you have to go to sleep for Mummy. Mummy needs sleep, too, not just your father. Please, James, just be quiet a bit, darling."

He quieted and Hermione sighed in relief. But then the wails just got louder a second later. Hermione groaned, but forced herself to stay calm. She was obviously doing something wrong. She had just fed him, changed his diaper. He should be fine... She gave him a bath this morning, well, yesterday morning. What was she doing wrong!?

Hermione laid down on the couch in the 'Common Room' and laid him on her chest. Immediately he was quiet. Really? She had spent three hours walking around the Manor, and all it took was to lie down with him?

"Goodnight," Hermione sighed quietly and closed her eyes. She was immediately asleep, her arm protectively around his body just in case she shifted. She knew no more, the soft gurgles of her son lulling her to sleep.

A blanket was pulled around her when she awoke hours later. Despite her grogginess, she felt quite refreshed. James was snuggled against her chest, one hand tangled in her bushy hair, the other clinging onto her shirt. Hermione closed her eyes once more, giving a soft sigh, and letting her head hit the cushion of the sofa.

"Please, don't be a phase," she murmured to no one as she tried to go back to sleep.

"Good morning," a voice greeted.

Her eyes peeped open, and she propped herself up on one elbow to see Harry immersed in the books, but he was giving her a tired grin.

"Morning," Hermione smiled back.

"You look right tired," he observed.

She groaned quietly, "I went on a three hour walk around the Manor trying to get James to sleep. Apparently all he wanted was to lie down on top of me."

"It was cute," Harry offered.

"Thanks," Hermione sighed. She stood and made sure to keep James level in her arms as she sat across from Harry, James resting in the play seat a few feet from us. She had brought it out a few nights ago while she was studying a few things for NEWTs. It was never too early to start.

"I woke up and saw you gone about five minutes after James started to cry," Harry admitted. "And I waited a bit, but you didn't come back, so I went back to bed. I heard the door close to the Common Room, and then I get up and see you fast asleep. I joined you."

Hermione glanced at the other couch to see a folded up blanket and a throw pillow.

"Thanks," Hermione sighed, once more. "I like the company."

"And if he woke up, I was going to offer to take him," Harry winked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Sure you would have."

"Anyway," Harry gestured to the books. "I went through three more. Nothing."

She groaned and sank down, grabbing another book, "Well, we have all these left. Let's see how far we get with them." A quick glance at the clock in the room informed her she had missed breakfast, and it was nearing lunch itself. Nearly eleven in the morning. Merlin, she had slept in.

Harry agreed with her statement and they started on the search.


	33. Chapter 33

Hermione's parents door opened an hour in, and Emma gave her sister a tight hug.

"Hey," Hermione yawned, keeping her finger in her place as she hugged her back.

"What are you doing?" Richard asked, taking a seat on the couch Hermione had lounged on.

"Looking up horcruxes," she said absently, resuming reading.

"Found something!" Harry cried suddenly. Hermione stiffened, glancing at James, but he was fast asleep. She sighed in relief before placing a bookmark in her place and crawling over the books to Harry. He passed her the book and she read where he pointed.

"Fiendfyre?" Hermione whispered. Her fingers absently brushed a curl from her face and she narrowed her eyes. "Harry..."

"I'm amazing, I know," Harry admitted cheekily, "but I have no idea what fiendfyre is."

"It's amazingly dangerous," Hermione passed him the book back and went back to her spot, Emma seated beside her as the little girl watched her sister search through a book in the discard pile. "It's a fire, created by the wand. And... if it's not an experienced wizard, it could kill you. It's so hot... it's like a wild fire, and the flames shoot out of control. If you use it, you use it with the intent to kill or seriously, seriously mime someone." Hermione passed him a book on it. "It makes sense why you could destroy a horcrux with it. Dark magic to take out Dark Magic."

Harry was quiet a moment, reading the passage, and then looked up at his fiancee, "Incineration? We're not using it."

"Of course we're not!" Hermione gave a breathless laugh, "It's too dangerous and I have no idea how to use it."

"So... what else is there?" Harry asked.

"Basilisk venom," Hermione sighed. "But we don't have a basilisk on a leash, do we?"

"No, it's in the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione nodded in agreement, "Right, so we're screwed. I mean, I'm sure that Knockturn Alley has some, but you can't exactly waltz down there."

"And neither can you," Harry returned.

His fiancee nodded, "So. . ." she shook her head, "We have to figure something out."

"Why don't you come down to breakfast?" Linda asked, breaking up what would be an educational debate.

Hermione nodded and glanced at James, deciding that he was least likely to be woken up and start screaming if she left him for fifteen minutes than if they went to a chatty meal.

Harry went to the bedroom, grabbing the locket, and made his way after our little troupe.

Dorea and Charlus listened as Harry read the note shakily, and closed their eyes as he finished. "Yes, I know who wrote this note," Dorea told Harry.

"Who?" Harry asked.

His eager tone wasn't hidden at all, and James Sr. noticed, "You cannot find him, he no longer lives."

"So he's dead, then," Hermione murmured. "And a Death Eater."

"Regulus Black," Lily informed them. "Sirius's younger, more dark arts involved, brother."

Harry scrunched up his face, "I thought he backed out of the Death Eaters."

"He did," Charlus nodded, the omelets on the living's plates still only half eaten as they discussed the latest news. Emma was watching them curiously, munching on some jellied toast. Linda and Richard, though they tried to hide it, were absorbing this information like Hermione usually did in class – with rapt attention. "He got in too deep," Charlus continued, "and realizing what was being asked of him, tried to back out. The Dark Lord doesn't like that very much."

"So he was murdered," Hermione murmured.

"Yes," Dorea nodded. "It tore Sirius apart. He was found around Hogsmeade."

Her words made Hermione's stomach curl. Found around Hogsmeade.

"That's horrible," Hermione gasped, her appetite gone.

Harry blanched, "What happened to the locket, then?"

"We may never know," Dorea said sympathetically. "If the Dark Lord knew, he could have kept the fake as a trap. But, if the Dark Lord didn't, only somewhere Regulus would trust safe would be my guess."

"Perhaps his bedroom?" Charlus offered.

Harry frowned, "Where would that be? Sirius's old house?"

James Sr. nodded. "Regulus lived at home for his nineteen years."

"Nineteen," Hermione's mother gasped. "That is so young!"

"During those times, you were lucky to make it through childhood," Dorea answered. "The war had been waging subtly for nearly forty years. And overnight, the battles grew by the tenfold."

"So Grimmauld Place," Harry said. "That's where it would probably be."

The Potter's nodded once more, "It is not safe there, as you've told me Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper," Charlus informed the young couple. "You'd have to be cautious."

Hermione swallowed, "We'll head there tomorrow. Make sure we're not seen... Apparate. I don't have my license, but the trace is off of me."

"It's too dangerous," her parents immediately insisted.

"It has to be done," Hermione cut back to them. "For the sake of the war, safety must be tested."

Harry was frowning at his omelet, not entirely happy by it either. "I'll go alone."

"You can't," Hermione insisted. "You still have the trace."

He sighed, "I can't put you in danger, Hermione."

"Too bad," Hermione told him simply. "I told you last year, I'm already in danger because of my blood. So what if you're Harry Potter?"

He sighed, "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

Hermione shrugged, "Would you rather I wasn't?"

He shook his head, and she could see his amusement, "So, how's this going to work?"

"You know how to get there," Dorea said. "You apparate there. Stay as long as you need to."

"James is fine with the seven of us. I'm sure we'll manage," Linda told her daughter in agreement.

Hermione sobered. James... "Oh..." Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing. "How long could it be to find a locket?"

"It depends on if someone moved it," Charlus admitted.

Hermione glanced at Harry, and he was frowning, "Someone else knows?"

"If Regulus knows, there's no doubt others do," Dorea said gently.

"Wait, where are you going?" Hermione's father asked them, confused.

"Headquarters, for the Order of the Phoenix," Hermione explained quietly.

"Not anymore, though. After Dumbledore died... it's not..." Hermione kicked him under the table and he winced, shooting Hermione a look. "It's not used anymore."

"So, you're going soon?"

"You should go today," her mother spoke. "The sooner you can defeat this guy, the better."

Hermione glanced at her sister and couldn't help but nod in agreement.


	34. Chapter 34

"We shouldn't be too long," Hermione hugged her parents tightly before giving her son a sloppy kiss.

"Be careful," Dorea told them as they stood in the foyer. They'd apparate as soon as they got outside.

James Sr. added, "I want you to keep your wands out and thoroughly check the house before you let your guard down."

Hermione appreciated their concern and advice, "We will, grandma, dad," Harry gave them a small smile. Dorea absolutely beamed at what Harry had called her.

Hermione slung her beaded bag over her shoulder, giving a wince as she heard all the books topple over. "Damn, they were in alphabetical order," Hermione muttered.

Emma hugged Hermione's legs tight, "Be careful, Mia. I love you."

"I love you too, Emma," Hermione smiled, hugging her back. "Keep an eye on James, alright?"

"I will!" she beamed at the older girl.

Hermione let go of her and stood beside Harry, lacing their fingers tightly together.

"You should go if you want to use the night as coverage," Charlus told them.

Hermione nodded. That'd be wise.

They walked outside after their last goodbyes as Hermione tightened her grip on Harry's hand, "Ready?" she asked him.

He nodded, "Let's do this."

He seemed to relax a moment and Hermione closed her eyes, apparating.

They teetered on the front step of Grimmauld Place a moment before they caught our balance. "Do you reckon any enchantments are on the doors?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, "Only one way to find out."

He opened the door, stepping through first, and glanced around, before pulling his fiancee in, "Safe so far."

They only made it two steps before Dumbledore appeared at the end of the hallway. Hermione's breath caught in my throat. Order members? Hermione scurried back steps as Dumbledore moved at incredible speed, screaming, before disappearing in a puff of dust.

"Mad-Eye must have put up spells to keep Snape out," Harry muttered.

"I don't want another close call," Herminoe whispered. "Homenum Revelio." A second later, she lowered her wand, "We're alone."

They stared at the dark hallway before Harry and her explored a little, trying to find Regulus's room. It was the last place they ever thought to look.

"Sirius's room," he said, as the couple passed it.

Hermione nodded in acknowledgment, but stopped at a door. "Regulus Arcturus Black."

"R.A.B." Harry murmured. He opened the door and stepped inside. It was tidy, well organized, and black. Black covers, black wood, and black walls. Very morbid.

"Do you see anything?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, opening a desk drawer and noticing there wasn't even dust, "Kreature must clean this place frequently. I haven't seen dust."

"Me neither," Harry admitted. He ran his hand along the top of a bookshelf and snickered, "Not even a dust bunny!"

Hermione frowned and found a few letters, "Harry, the locket?"

He passed it to her wordlessly and she unraveled the note inside, comparing the handwriting. "It's identical," Harry told her.

Hermione nodded in agreement and began to skim the letters. "These are just missions he had," she murmured.

"Like?"

"Burn down a Muggle village," her eyes narrowed in disgust. "How many people he had killed. Seven."

"That's not too bad, considering he was a Death Eater for two years," Harry insisted.

Hermione nodded slowly and then leaned away from the desk, "Nothing."

"It's not here," Harry sighed. "Who would know where?"

They met each other's eyes and knew immediately, "Kreature."

"Kreature," Hermione said gently, "Have you seen this locket before?" The locket dangled from Harry's hand, hovering over the elf. Kreature cowered from it, and spat at her feet.

"The Mudblood talks to Kreature!" Kreature wailed.

"Don't talk to her like that," Harry spat back. "Answer her."

"Harry, be nice," Hermione scolded.

"Kreature has seen one like it, yes," Kreature admitted reluctantly.

"Do you have it?" Harry asked.

"No!" he wailed. "No! I don't! Kreature couldn't fulfill Master's wishes! Kreature failed Master!"

"Regulus told you to destroy it, didn't he?" Hermione asked gently. "But you couldn't."

"Kreature tried everything, Mudblood. Kreature could not destroy the locket."

Hermione nodded. "It's the real one, then," she said to Harry. "We have to find it."

"Kreature, do you know where it is?" Harry asked.

"He came in the middle of the night," Kreature spoke.

"Who came? Who took it, Kreature?" Harry demanded.

"Mundungus Fletcher," Kreature spoke.

"Find him," Harry ordered.

Kreature disappeared in a flash and pop.

Hermione relaxed and Harry sat with her at the table in the dining room, before rising and going to the kitchen. She didn't ask him what he was doing, but when he returned, two mugs of steaming tea were in his hands. Hermione took one, gratefully, and sighed as the warmth seeped through her fingertips. This house was so cold.

"What could Mundungus do with that?" she murmured.

"It's Slytherin's, it's probably worth a fortune," Harry answered, sipping the tea.

Hermione stared at the table, "Harry?"

"Hermione?" he returned in the same tone. Hermione glanced up at him and his smile immediately vanished, "Woah, what's wrong?"

"Do you remember what you said to me when you apparated to my house?"

"I... I said that you weren't really there."

Hermione closed her eyes painfully, tears threatening to spill over, "There was more, Harry."

"I don't remember. I was in so much pain..."

"You wanted me to kill you," Hermione whispered. She opened her eyes, "Why would you ever...? I could never do that to you, Harry. I couldn't... The world needs you, Harry, I need you..."

"I... I know. I'm sorry, I was just... I wanted it over," Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. He touched my arm, "Don't cry-"

"I thought you had given up," I interrupted. "I thought you had decided that the Dark Lord didn't matter. That you just wanted it all over." She glanced at his hand, resting on her forearm, his thumb making gentle circles. "I didn't blame you, really. It broke my heart to see you like that. And to have you ask me to do that, beg me," She wiped a tear away from her cheek. "I've never seen you like that. Not after Cedric, or Sirius. I was so... I was so worried!"

He set his mug down and took her into his arms, "Hey, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking right. I was so out of it. I didn't-"

"I've never seen you like that, Harry. Please, tell me why you think dying would solve any problems," she whispered.

He sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head as her face nuzzled under his chin, "I thought... I thought if I died, no one else would get hurt. He couldn't hurt anyone else for being close to me. It was selfish of me to think, I know." Hermione's heart clenched painfully at the thought of him dying. "I thought that if... if he couldn't hurt you, he'd lose. Obviously, that doesn't work that way. He would have hurt you guys no matter what."

"I love you, Harry. I couldn't imagine a day without you."

"I love you too, Hermione."

Hermione frowned at the hurt tone in his voice, "Harry..." he pulled away just slightly so she could see his face, "We're going to kill him."

"You're so hot," he murmured, his lips latching onto mine. Hermione giggled and kissed him back. But they were interrupted from going any further by a crack. Two cracks. Mundungus Fletcher was sent sprawling on the table and Kreature grabbed a candlestick holder, whacking him on the back with it.

"Kreature has found Mundungus, sir," Kreature growled, his eyes glowing with malice and excitement as he whacked Mundungus again.

"Why you little cretin!" Fletcher barked.

"Don't you dare, Fletcher," Harry interrupted as he was about to smack Kreature. Kreature grinned evilly and waved the candlestick menacingly.

"Potter!" Fletcher gasped in surprise. His eyes flitted to Hermione, "You're... you're supposed to be dead!"

"Boo," she said nonchalantly. "Thank you, Kreature. You did wonderfully."

Kreature didn't respond to her. Hermione didn't know if he was ignoring her or if it was because he didn't hear Mudbloods, but she saw a pleased look pass through his eyes. Maybe he wasn't so bad? The candlestick jabbed Fletcher once more.

"Have you seen a locket?" Harry asked, cutting right to the chase.

"Why?" Fletcher's eyes widened, "Was it valuable?"

Harry held up the locket, "It looks like this. Have you seen it?"

"Yeah, found it a couple of weeks ago," Fletcher said, Kreature giving a growl and stabbing him with his candlestick once more. Hermione had to fight the giggle at the sight of Kreature being menacing.

"Where is it?"

"I don't have it!" Kreature back Fletcher up into a corner. "Sold it!"

"To who?" Hermione demanded. Who would buy such a thing? If the Dark Lord had it...

He scrambled back at her wand that she had pulled out of her pocket, knocking over stacks of papers that Kreature kept - that the Order had kept. Fletcher glanced down in surprise, his short, stubby stature not making him look any more vulnerable than the stolen gold rings on his meaty fingers. "To her."

He pointed at the Prophet that was staring straight up at them, and Hermione felt herself blanch. She met Harry's eyes, "Umbridge."

Hermione was back to staring at Fletcher, "When did you give it to her? How much?"

"She came waltzing up to me, asking me if I had anything good," Mundungus Fletcher explained. She could smell the alcohol on his breath from where she stood, and knew he was drunk, which either meant this story was completely false, or it was the truth. "I showed her what I had, and she bought that locket. Ugly thing, if you ask me. Wanted it gone. Gave me a bad feeling. Got fifty galleons for it."

"Hermione..."

"We have to find Umbridge," Hermione murmured.

"We will," Harry promised. "What do we do with him?"

"Kreature wants him," Kreature growled, his candlestick jabbing him once more. This time Hermione managed a small giggle of amusement to escape her.

"He can't know I left the Dursley's," Harry murmured so Fletcher couldn't hear. "We have to ..."

"Erase his memory?" Hermione finished.

He nodded, and Hermione wisely took a step forward, "Allow me. You have the trace."

"What are you going to do?" Fletcher gasped. "You can't kill me!"

"Obliviate," she murmured, concentrating hard on the memory she wanted to erase. Anything of tonight with Kreature, Harry, and herself. As Fletcher slumped to the ground, passed out, Harry spoke to Kreature, "Dump him where you found him, please. And then come back here immediately afterwards."

Kreature grumbled something, but obeyed, disappearing with the thief in a crack.

Harry touched Hermione's arm and she lowered her wand, "How are we going to get to Umbridge?" she whispered, her brain going miles a minute to think of some decent plan.

"I don't know," he admitted. He glanced at her bag, "Research?"

Hermione bit her lip, "No... the better question is, how are we going to get into the Ministry without getting caught?"

"Is the Floo network traced here?" Harry asked.

"No doubt watched by the Order," Hermione admitted.

"Then we've only got one way to tell your parents and my grandparents that we're coming back empty handed," Harry informed her. And then he conjured his wand, and said strongly, "Expecto Patronum!"

A large silver stag came galloping out, and it came to a halt by the fireplace before slowly turning around and walking towards them.

"How do you do voice messages?" Harry asked. "Like Tonks and Dumbledore."

Hermione frowned, "I think you just talk to it. But you have to keep it short."

Harry nodded and spoke to the stag, "Coming back. No locket, but an idea."

And it bowed lowly, bending its blue knees to the ground like a hippogryff and then it was gone in a puff of magical smoke. When Kreature came back ten minutes later, they told him that they'd find the locket, but he could keep the fake. He was ecstatic and even shed a few tears.

"But you can't leave this place, Kreature. You can't tell anyone about us," Harry warned. "Or what we were looking for."

"Kreature understands... master," Kreature grumbled, staring at the locket with a hint of wonder. Wonder and appreciation.

"Thank you, Kreature. You helped us with a lot tonight."

He nodded, his large eyes slowly glancing up at Hermione, before he croaked, "The Mudblood speaks to me!"

Hermione giggled, finding that after all this, he still referring to her as the Mudblood funny. "No on can know we're here, or that we're together, or where we're going," Harry spoke, not finding it funny at all. "Got it?"

"Kreature understands," Kreature repeated.

Hermione took Harry's arm, then the mugs and placed them in the kitchen sink, before pulling him into the hall. "Goodbye, Kreature. We'll see you shortly."

As soon as they reached the landing, they apparated.


	35. Chapter 35

The Potter Manor was bustling with activity, it seemed, when they returned. Porter immediately told them to head to the drawing room, even tugging their hands to get them to move faster.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked.

"Master and Mistress Potter are in the drawing room and have gotten your message."

"But why is everyone so busy?"

"It is cleaning day, Master Harry," Porter answered. "It is always busy at this time of day."

"Oh," Hermione frowned. She glanced around at the elves that were dusting portraits, scrubbing the floors behind them as they walked. "I've never noticed before."

"Me neither," Harry admitted.

They were let go of at the drawing room doors, "Master and Mistress were most worried."

Hermione frowned, "Why? We were gone for four hours."

Harry shrugged, "No idea."

They opened the doors to find Linda and Richard looking very tired and worried, "Oh! There you are!" Linda cried. She embraced her daughter, then Harry.

"Mum, we were only gone for a few hours," Hermione said slowly.

"I know, but you had me worried. Dorea and Charlus told us how dangerous the horcruxes were..."

Hermione shook her head, "We didn't find it, but we know where to look."

"Where?" Charlus asked.

Harry smirked, "We need to break into the Ministry."

There was dead silence, and Dorea and Charlus's eyes were wide and staring at the both of them in disbeilef. Hermione's mother, clutching the newborn baby to her, was silent as she shook her head in silent horror.

"That's impossible," James Sr. insisted.

Hermione glanced at Harry, before the rest of them. "We can … brew polyjuice, get in that way."

"You'd only have an hour," Lily reminded her.

"An hour should be just enough," Hermione admitted. "All we need to do is find Umbridge's office... break in, find the locket."

"And if it's not in the office?"

"We'll find it," Harry insisted. "It can't be that spread out."

"Harry, have you ever been to the Ministry?" James asked his son. "It's massive-"

"We broke in last year," Harry admitted. "Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna... we flew to the roof and found the Department of Mysteries."

"Without getting caught?" Lily gasped in disbelief.

Harry gestured towards his fiancee, "Wasn't that hard. She memorized massive amounts of things dealing with the Ministry."

"I know where to go," Hermione nodded. "I can get us to Umbridge's department..."

"And they don't even know where we are," Harry agreed. "They won't know who it was, because we're supposed to be either missing or at the Dursley's-"

"Exactly, so it should work," Hermione insisted. "Even if we fail, we should be able to get out before they see anything."

"And if they catch you when you transform back?" Dorea asked sharply.

Hermione winced, "Well... we run."

"That isn't safe," she snapped. "You can get killed!"

Harry swallowed, "We'll make it."

"We've done it before," Hermione insisted. "Harry's been there twice, it's not like he's blind, either."

"Twice?" Charlus asked sharply.

"Uh, a trial... It was a complete misunderstanding," Harry said quickly as Richard's eyes narrowed. "Dementors attacked my cousin and I just a ways down the road. I defended myself against them, and got charged with the use of magic in front of a Muggle. . ." He shrugged, "I was aquitted from the charges, they had nothing against me. It was entirely the Ministry's fault for not having any control on the dementors."

"A dementor attacked you," James said slowly. "What the bloody hell was a Dementor doing in Muggle land!?"

"Well... you-know-who convinced them to join his cause... and got them on his side," Harry explained, wincing slightly.

"It's much to dangerous for you to go out-" Dorea started.

Harry cut her off, "I have to do this. It's either me or them. Us or them."

Hermione nodded in agreement, taking his hand for support, "So, I'll get to brewing the polyjuice potion."

"Do you need help?" Lily offered. "I can't physically help, but I've done the potion before."

"That'd be great, thanks," Hermione admitted.

"Sure! I'll head for the potions room n-"

James began to wail, cutting Lily off. Hermione immediately headed for her mother, offering to take him.

"He has quite a set of lungs," Linda laughed, handing him off.

Hermione winced and gently patted the little boy's back as she went over to Harry, "I'm going to put him down and then I'll be in the potions room with your mum... Um, Harry? Why don't you head to the library and look for anything that has to do with basilisks," she suggested. "I'll see you tonight if you find anything."

"If you're sure," he said quietly.

Hermione nodded, "Positive." James reached a new pitch and Hermione winced. "Right, him to bed."

Harry laughed and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before she ducked out of the room.


	36. Chapter 36

Harry Potter never expected to be a father at sixteen. In fact, he never expected to be a father at all. He knew, upon the return of Voldemort, that his life was just as certain as the Dark Lord's. But only, theirs were opposite. If one was stronger, the other was not. Harry knew the Dark Lord was getting as strong as he had ever been... with Dumbledore gone, hardly anyone could stop him.

But Harry.

"I don't know if I can act like this guy, Hermione," Harry said as he set the file she had produce on some wizard that worked at the Ministry down. "He's like thirty years older than me."

"Have you read the file, Harry?" Hermione sighed, setting down her own.

"Well, yes, but..." Harry shook his head, "I still don't understand how you even got it. You're supposed to be missing!"

"Well," Hermione blushed. "I, actually... ordered an elf to do it."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "I'm sorry, did I just hear you right? You ordered an elf to spy on these two people?"

She turned a brighter shade of red and glanced at the file, "I had to think of some way to do it... this was the quickest way. I paid them, too. There's a month of observations here. It's nearly the middle of July, the Ministry is slowing down it's season... it shouldn't be too difficult."

"What if we get separated?" Harry asked.

"We have an hour," she responded. "We're bound to get separated. Just remember the time... and don't forget to leave..."

"And if we're caught?" Harry pressed.

"We run as fast as we can," Hermione responded as if it were normal. "And we apparate to the Forest of Dean, from the World Cup."

"I remember," Harry nodded. "But I can't apparate. I have the trace."

Hermione bit her lip, "Oh... Right, that is a problem."

He groaned, "I just need to be two weeks older. Two weeks!"

Hermione giggled, "I might have something... I asked McGonagall for a favor over the summer... before we left school. I wanted to study for some classes I wanted to take, that I hadn't taken the prerequisites for, so I had to catch up..." she dug around her beaded bag that was at her feet and presented Harry the small golden chain. "I think a few turns every few hours would do."

"Well, I am already three hours older than normal," Harry said thoughtfully.

Hermione took a spare piece of parchment and began to do the math. "You need three hundred and thirty three hours extra... Merlin, okay. . . So every hour you need to do two... Can you do that?"

"Yeah, and every night, I'll just do eight ahead at a time."

Hermione nodded, "I don't know what rules apply for time travel... I mean, if you do see yourself, you already know what's going to happen... just try to avoid yourself, I think... Lock yourself in a broom cupboard or something."

"Lock myself in a broom cupboard?" Harry asked, a smirk causing Hermione to smack his arm. He placed the necklace around his neck. "How do I use it?"

"Twist the small knob as many times back for as many hours you want to go. So let's just start out with one and see how it goes."

"Alright," Harry nodded. He flipped it once and it began to spin on its own until he dissolved from in front of the girl. Hermione took a deep breath, waiting for him to return. But she had only to wait a few seconds because he suddenly appeared at the door of the library and gave her a grin, "That was wicked."

"Feel older?" Hermione teased.

"Much," he grinned.

"Okay, so I think you can do a few more, but you should probably eat first," Hermione laughed as his gleeful expression. "Did you have fun?"

"Fun? I got to give all the portraits a right scare because I was supposed to be with you."

Hermione giggled and pulled him away from the library, "Perhaps this was a bad idea."

"No way. So I have four hours on me... three hundred and thirty two to go."

Over the next few days, Harry went overkill and did around a hundred hours in the span of twenty. Hermione warned him he was going to over-exhaust himself, but he insisted his was fine. He mostly did the hours at night, when she was sleeping, going about eight hours at a time back to the beginning of the night and replaying it over and over again. He got about forty in a night, before Hermione woke up at his fourth entrance and took the necklace away from him.

He kept a tally, marking each set of twenty he did.

By the end of the week, he had done nearly two hundred.

Hermione sighed, exhausted from brewing all day, "Harry, I told you to go slower!"

But he didn't listen. He ate when he got hungry, he read when he was bored, and he haunted the pictures for good fun. After all, seeing Harry walk one way and then come from another did give them quite the double take.

And he slept. Some of those eight hour shifts were spent sleeping.

By mid-July, two weeks before his birthday, and on the day of the Ministry infiltration, he did his last tally.

"How many, then?" Hermione asked from taking James out of the bath besides the cauldron in the bathroom. She wiped the water from the soft baby skin and James gurgled in laughter. Hermione kissed the little boy's cheek, before rubbing the water from his air. She placed James on the warm counter, placing a diaper on him and then his jumper and socks.

"Four hundred and sixty," Harry said proudly. "I'm officially older than seventeen."

Hermione sighed, "You could have stressed out your magical core, Harry!"

"But I didn't," he insisted. He spun around for her and she rolled her eyes.


	37. Chapter 37

"This is serious, Harry."

"I'm well aware," he insisted. Harry moved so he was standing beside her, overlooking the potion. "So, it's done then?"

She nodded, "I've vialed them," she gestured to the vials, four, besides the toothpaste. "We can have an extra hour if necessary, but you have to find a bathroom and take it without getting caught."

"I can do that," he insisted. "I'm a natural at being stealthy."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Harry, if anything, you make it obvious."

"I do not," he gasped, in mock hurt. "When have I ever made It obvious?"

"You run into things because you don't pay attention," Hermione said simply. She handed him two vials. "Keep those on you. Now, I wonder how we can get there."

"Apparate to Muggle London? Walk to the entrance, and find our people?"

Hermione nodded, glancing at her watch, "Yes, it's about their lunch hour. They should be leaving for lunch in about fifteen minutes."

"We have perfect timing then," Harry nodded. "Let's go."

"Wait, I want to say goodbye to my parents first... Just in case we get caught and can't return here."

Harry paused, "Is that a possibility?"

Hermione nodded slowly, "Yeah... I didn't want to tell them..."

"James will be alright, right?" Harry asked, looking at his son.

She nodded, "Yeah, Mum said she'd watch him for a bit."

Harry sighed, "Yeah, I suppose he'd be fine, then. It's just so..."

"Terrifying?" Hermione tried. "I'm terrified too."

"You don't have to come."

"I'm going to."

Not even twelve hours later, they found themselves getting ready, prepared for never coming back.

Harry nodded, glancing around them. "It's strange, isn't it?"

"What?" Hermione said absently, digging into the purple bag around her shoulder to make sure she had anything in case of an emergency. "What's strange?"

"That we're... actually one step closer to defeating him," Harry admitted. He sat down beside the near empty cauldron. "I mean, we actually have five more left, but really four once we get this horcrux..." He shook his head, "It's the strangest thing. My entire life has been devoted to him dying..."

Hermione giggled, "Come on, we have everything. You can reminisce after the war."

She tugged him off the table, and vanished the fire under the cauldron. As they made their way to say goodbyes, a part of them knew that they may not be able to come back for a while. Once they began the hunt, it'd be far too dangerous to keep returning here. Eventually, they knew, the Death Eaters would catch on. That was why Hermione had food, clothing, books, and even shelter at the ready. Just one slightest hint of anyone being suspicious and they were gone.

Emma latched onto Hermione's legs immediately upon her sister's entrance, "Mia... be careful, okay?"

"I always am," Hermione insisted, hugging her little sister tightly. "Be careful here, too. Don't go outside too much, stay close to the house. If anything happens, you know what to do, right?"

She nodded, "Call an elf and have them take us someplace safe."

"Good girl," Hermione nodded. She ran her hand over the little girl's curls before standing. "I'll be back as soon as I can, alright?"

She nodded, giving her sister a sad smile, "I'll still get to see you and Harry, right? You won't go away forever like Grandma and Grandpa?"

Hermione's heart broke and she shook her head, "I'll try everything I can to not going away forever."

"Harry, too?"

"Harry, too," Hermione said quietly.

She nodded and before the little girl could say more, a warm embrace captured Hermione.

"You better not do anything stupid," Richard's voice stated in his daughter's bushy hair. "Come back to us."

"I will," Hermione promised, knowing they were just empty words until she got back.

The father took the words as a promise though, and released his daughter before Linda could get to them. As Linda embraced Hermione, they rocked back and forth a moment in solace before Hermione pulled away. "We have five minutes to get there... I'm sorry-"

"Why are you taking your bag?" Linda asked curiously. Hermione kissed James' forehead in her arms, taking in a deep breath of his baby powder smell, before allowing Harry access.

Hermione swallowed, taking Harry's arm as she stepped back. "We'll be back as soon as it's safe... I'm sorry."

"What does that mean?" Richard demanded.

Hermione swallowed, but it was Harry that spoke, "Take care of James for us."

And then Hermione closed her eyes and turned on the spot, fighting back tears.


	38. Chapter 38

When they landed in Muggle London, she took a deep breath to collect herself. "He smells so clean," Hermione murmured to herself.

"Yeah, he does."

Hermione nodded and shuffled about the dimly lit storage room to the door, and opened it to see Muggles rushing about to get to lunch. Harry joined her to peek through the crack. "So... when should they be walking by?"

"What time is it?" Hermione whispered.

"Almost noon."

"As soon as the clock strikes noon they leave the Ministry," Hermione whispered. "You remember where he goes, right? His posts?"

"Of course," Harry answered. "You only made me read the file fifty times."

"I had to make sure you understood it," Hermione snapped. She sucked in a breath, spotting the two people they'd borrow. "Okay, there they are. They're on their way-"

"How are we going to do this?"

"Stun and drag, Harry," Hermione said grimly. "Stun and drag."

Hermione's breath was leaving her in pants as she rushed to get ahead of the crowd, ahead of the closing Floos. "Hermione!" Harry cried. "We won't be able to get out."

She grabbed his arm, "Concentrate!"

"On what!?" he cried.

"Safe house!" she insisted, and with a burst of impossible energy, dashed under the sliding bars of a Floo fireplace, pulling Harry with her, and then she apparated.

As soon as they landed, she knew something was wrong. "Hermione!" Harry shouted. Hermione spun around, her breath catching in her throat as a black coated man slowly got to his feet, staring at the two. Hermoine's hand clenched around Harry's wrist, and Grimmauld Place melted from their view as they apparated.

"Bloody hell!" Harry cried as they landed. It was woods, dark and damp. Hermione's wand was casting charms, placing wards around them.

"Sorry, he wasn't supposed to follow us!" Hermione panted. "I don't feel good at all... Merlin, they do warn you to wait five minutes, don't they?"

"Hermione?" Harry groaned. Hermione turned her head to glance at Harry briefly, but gasped, her feet crunching on the leaves as she approached his fallen form. He was on the ground, his eyes screwed shut in pain, and his arm bleeding something wicked.

"Merlin, you splinched," Hermione's hands dug in her bag. "Okay, umm... Accio Dittany!"

The bones in his arm were showing, and there was a few pieces of muscle sticking out from where the skin had disappeared. "Shhh," Hermione whispered, "It'll sting."

"Just hurry up!" Harry growled out. She sprinkled the healing water on the gruesome wound, her hand gently touching Harry's chest as she tried to keep him still.

"Sorry," Hermione kept whispering, images of the last time he was on the ground in pain flashing before her eyes. There had been so much blood then... Almost as much as now.

The blood was all over her hands, staining the knees of the pants she had on as she knelt. Harry's torn t-shirt was already soaked on the left side.

"It's okay," Hermione insisted when the wound healed. "I know it hurts..."

"We have to get back to your parents-" Harry started.

"We can't apparate," Hermione said regretfully. "You can't apparate until it's healed... I really pushed it, apparating you so soon the first time, and that was a week. Three weeks for splinching."

"No, we can't wait that long-"

"Harry, we can't go any sooner," Hermione insisted, helping him to his feet. She found his wand in the brush and presented it to him, and then her bag. "Set up the tent. We'll camp here."

Hermione finished the wards, before entering the fully erected tent. "What do you feel like for food?" she asked him, spotting him on the sofa, his head in a hand, his other arm leaning very carefully on his lap.

"Anything," Harry admitted. He gestured to the beaded bag on the table. "They know we're together."

"It was inevitable," Hermione insisted. "We would have been found out sooner or later."

"They're going to have a field day with this," Harry continued. "It'll be all over the Prophet, the Order will know-"

"We can deal with it after the war," Hermione insisted. "We just need to get rid of the horcruxes."

Harry's gaze dropped to the locket besides her purse. "We have no way to destroy it."

"We'll get to that," Hermione sighed. She dug around her purse before presenting a silk scarf. "Here, we can create a sling for you."

"I'd like to change first."

"Oh, right," Hermione agreed, pulling out a pair of clothes for him. She placed all of the items in a pile before grabbing some clothes herself. "I'll be in the bedroom!"

"Bedroom?"

"You don't expect to sleep on the floor, do you?" she grinned over her shoulder before drawing the curtain closed.

"I don't expect to sleep on my own either!" Harry called to her.

"Weird, maybe I shouldn't have made the one bed into two, then," Hermione smirked to herself as she pulled her bloodied shirt off and folded it neatly before placing it at her feet.

"There are two beds?"

"Just one, Harry," Hermione returned, her fingers darting along the buttons of her shirt as she buttoned it up.

"Oh," he seemed quite relieved with this. "Good."

She threw her dirtied clothes into a pile in the corner of the tent and pulled the curtain away to see Harry still pulling his shirt over his head. His back was turned to her, exposing scars from his years of abuse. "How do you do it, Harry?"

"Do what?" he asked, slinging the sling on next as he turned to face her. He winced slightly at moving his arm, but otherwise seemed better.

Hermione sighed, "How do you go from... from being treated so horribly to being so alright?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, "I just... I don't want to be the bad guy... I want to kill him, but I don't want anyone else hurt."

Hermione approached him slowly and her hand ran along his collar bone, tracing the scars of past beatings. "You don't... you don't act like you're hurting. How do you do it?"

"I'm not hurting," he insisted. "I have you, I have James, I have my parents, and grandparents, your parents, and my sister-"

"But you act like it never happened," Hermione whispered. "It's unnerving."

"I'm just used to it, Hermione," Harry insisted. "Yeah, it's still there, but I focus on the good things that happen to me in the now..."

"Your bravery amazes me, Harry," Hermione insisted quietly. "You truly are a Gryffindor."

"And you aren't? You just flat out told your parents we were going to be traveling alone, together. If we would have stayed any longer, I think he might have throttled me-"

"You're being drastic, Harry," Hermione insisted. "No, I just... it's amazing."

"And your ability to literally drop out of school, go back on your whole life, amazes me to no end," he insisted. He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. "You're a mother. And that's bravery no man will ever know."

"And you're a father," she returned. "Is that nothing?"

"That and you are keeping me going, to be honest," Harry gave a tired smile. "I about said 'Sod it' and not do the prophecy at all."

Hermione's fingers dropped to clasp his uninjured hand, "Well, even if time gets tough, you'll never escape the prophecy. That's why it's called a prophecy. It'll come true no matter what."

Harry's fingers tightened on hers, "That's good, because I'm certain he's going to do everything possible to make sure I die."

Hermione swallowed in fear, "We'll do everything possible to make sure he dies."

"Will it be enough?"

"It has to be," Hermione admitted. "Because if we give everything, we'd have nothing left to fight with."

"It has to count," he agreed.

"And we need to figure out how to destroy the horcruxes we find," Hermione admitted. "We can do that. We just need to find basilisk venom."

"It shouldn't be hard, right?" Harry asked hopefully. Hermione didn't know how to answer.


	39. Chapter 39

Hermione Granger's lungs burned. Her eyes stung as she ran, Harry beside her. "Where are we going?" he panted.

"Away from here!" Hermione cried back.

"Obviously!" Harry glanced over his shoulder, barely missing a spell as it whizzed past his ear.

"Who would have something weird and not in an every day house?" Hermione cried as she dodged a tree, and then leaped over another.

"Do you even have to ask who has weird stuff?"

Hermione glanced at him for confirmation, and he held out his arm. As soon as they touched, a twisting sensation tore at their navel and they were gone.

They landed in a field, a tall, crooked home towering over them, plums that seemed to defy gravity in the bushes out front. Hermione took a breather, her lungs still aching.

"How did the Snatchers find us?" Harry demanded. "We did nothing!"

"Maybe they sensed the wards?" Hermione tried. "We don't have much time. They can trace us here with the right spells."

After catching their breath, they approached the dreary home, nervous about what they'd find, and what they could possibly say.

Harry knocked tentatively and there was silence as they waited. The door opened in a flourish and a long blonde haired man was staring at them, his shirt loose, the buttons half buttoned. His hair was finely groomed, but haphazardly tied back. A silver necklace was dangling down, a triangle with a line and a circle inside. Hermione's eyes caught it briefly before she gave the man a smile.

"Why, hello! Visitors!"

"Yes, is Luna home?" Hermione asked, biting her lip. "We're friends of hers from school... We were hoping to catch her before she left for Hogwarts-"

"My sweet little Lune? Oh, yes, of course. She's upstairs with a friend. Come in, I'll fetch her," the man insisted in the same dreamy voice his daughter possessed. "I didn't catch your names?"

"Penelope Clearwater," Hermione said, glancing at Harry. "This is -"

"You need not lie to me, Miss Granger," Luna's father smiled sadly. "These times are tough, but you should not feel the need to be secretive around me."

"I'm sorry," Hermione winced. "We just don't know who to trust anymore."

"Hardly anyone does," he admitted, moving towards stairs that spiraled up into the ceiling. "I am Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna's father."

"It's great to meet you, sir," Harry said politely. "Luna's said great things about you."

"My lovely Lune is the pride of my existence," he said dreamily. "I'll fetch her for you."

He disappeared up the steps only to return a minute later, a tea pot in his hands. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thanks," Harry said quietly. "We just need to talk to Luna. It's important."

"He's just being polite," a feminine voice drifted through the room. A pretty blonde descended the stairs in a mustard yellow dress, her hair falling behind her in ringlets. "Hello, Hermione, Harry."

"Hello, Luna," Hermione smiled to the young girl. Neville was quick behind her, surprised to see them both.

"Blimey! I thought you two were dead! Everyone thinks you're dead," Neville cried.

"I have a quick question, Luna."

"Of course you do. There are proxies all around you," Luna smiled brightly.

Hermione didn't try to make sense of that. "We're looking for basilisk venom... Anything that would contain it. If you have anything-"

"Oh, well there's some venomous worms in the garden-"

"No, we need basilisk venom. Do you have any?" Hermione repeated, not putting up with her made-up creatures.

"I don't think so," Luna admitted. "That's dark stuff. We don't keep dark stuff in the house. Right, Daddy?"

Xenophilius seemed to be concentrating on making the tea. "Hmmm, Luna?"

"Harry and Hermione are looking for basilisk venom. Do we have any?" Luna asked brightly, tugging Neville's hand so he was sitting beside her. Hermione briefly wondered why they were home, until she realized it was Christmas break. There was hardly any snow on the ground.

"I don't believe so," Xenophilius stated. "But I can check the store room for you."

"That would be lovely," Harry admitted.

As he disappeared, Neville took them both in. "You look like hell."

"Been a rough few months," Harry sighed. "How are you lot doing? How's Hogwarts?"

"I haven't gone back," Luna said dreamily. "Daddy says it's not safe. Neville has though..."

"The DA is great," Neville grinned. "You should have seen me last week. Nasty black eye and bruised jaw. The Carrows are in charge of punishment, Snape's Headmaster. It's a mess there. We mostly sleep in the Room of Requirement, with a lot of refugees. It's not safe in the Common Rooms anymore."

"Refugees?"

"The safest place to be is right under their nose," Neville smiled. "Brilliant, isn't it?"

Hermione seemed amazed to see the boy so confident and bright. She couldn't remember ever seeing him this way. Not since the Battle of the Ministry.

"Yes, brilliant," she said faintly. "Is Ron there?"

"Yeah, but he doesn't go to classes. He's a refugee in the Room of Requirement. Ginny goes to classes though."

The two wanted teens swallowed hard. "We're about to ask a lot of you-"

"Of course we'll help you," Luna interrupted. "I need to get out of the house. Daddy's suffocating me with all the tea."

"What do you need?" Neville continued.

"Actually," Hermione winced at their eager expressions. "We need to get the Sword of Gryffindor."

"It was put in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. There was a big uproar about it. Snape himself put it there."

There was silence with Neville's statement. "Any ideas on how to break into Gringotts?"

Xenophilius returned, a small jar in his hands. "This is all we have. Take it."

There couldn't have been more than three drops inside, and it was hardly enough to destroy a horcrux, but it was something, at least.

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said quietly, clutching it tightly in her hand. She sat back down, swallowing. "This is very kind of you."

"I just hope you'll do your best to bring him down?"

"Of course," Harry answered. "That's what we do."

"When are you leaving?" Luna asked suddenly. "I'd like to show you something upstairs."

"As soon as we can," Hermione answered. "What is it, Luna?"

"Come, I'll show you," the girl answered. They all climbed the stairs, Xenophilius remaining behind to finish making his tea.

The ceiling of Luna's bedroom contained the faces of Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Seamus. Dean was beginning being painted between Neville and Seamus and Hermione couldn't help but be surprised. The poor girl was given so much hate in the school for the way she acted... She was truly a kind girl.

"Luna, this is amazing," Hermione admitted. Neville sat down on Luna's ruffled bed, and he folded his hands in his lap.

"So, this whole fighting evil thing. When do we leave?" Neville asked.

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other, but their response was interrupted by the sound of apparation cracks.

"Why, hello, gentlemen!" Xenophilius's voice cried from downstairs. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Potter?"

"Potter? Harry Potter, you mean? I haven't seen him-"

"We leave now," Harry answered quickly.

Luna calmly stood and grabbed her wand, waving it around a single sock in her drawer. The bright orange fabric glowed a bright blue, and they all grabbed on quickly, Neville eyeing the door hesitantly. "Luna, when is this going off?"

"A minute," she answered simply.

"Uh, Luna," Hermione hissed. "We're going to need to move faster than that."

Clamboring steps sounded up the winding stairs. Hermione was amazingly grateful that Luna's room was on the very top floor, but the Death Eaters seemed to be moving fast.

"What about Mr. Lovegood?"

"Daddy can take care of himself," Luna answered. "He's a good dueler. He went to Durmstrang, you know."

Hermione winced as she heard doors being blasted open underneath their feet. The ground shook and the house seemed to tilt, like it was falling over. "Uh, guys-" Harry started.

"Ten seconds," Luna remarked.

Footsteps seemed to get closer. Stomp, stomp, stomp, and then the bedroom door to Luna's room was thrust open, just as they disappeared.


End file.
